RemAtch
by perpetuallyandalways
Summary: Two and a half years after the end of the Game, the Liars have moved on with their lives. What they don't know is how AD is more alive, more strategic, and more determined than ever to win the game, and crush their opponents ruthlessly. Set after 7x20.
1. Chapter 1

**\- Spencer -**

"The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned."

The court erupted in applause as our client, whose face was moistened in tears of joy, was proclaimed innocent. She laughed, her eyes wrinkling as more tears streamed out of them. Her son, a boy no older than five years old, embraced her lovingly from behind.

"I'm never letting you go, mama."

Our team was beaming. It was another victory, and thanks to the potent mixture of compassion and brilliance characteristic to our entourage, Victoria Collins was exonerated, after being sentenced to near-life for inadvertent, yet voluntary vehicular manslaughter. As she was escorted back to the jailhouse to pick up her possessions, she turned around, mouthing a "thank you". Her eyes spoke volumes of gratitude. I smiled at her encouragingly, as she turned back around, her son bouncing around her legs, much to the chagrin of the escorting shuttle driver.

My overseer, the esteemed Philadelphia defense attorney Miriam Asher, looked at me, and sighed, smiling (an unusual gesture for someone with her hour-constraints and intense, serious personality). I assembled the folder of papers, hoping not to look idle.

"Spencer. Your coffee is a trademark of hell's kitchen, but, alas, I cannot thank you enough for your work." She was beaming, proud.

I grinned from ear to ear. "It was a pleasure."

"Get a head start home, Hastings. We have debriefs tomorrow."

I had been interning for the last five months at Miriam's firm as a paralegal, and was steadily rising in the ranks. Five years prior to today, walking through the windy, leaf-swept main avenue leading to my car, the mere insinuation of my attending Georgetown University's long-distance law school program, and interning at a paralegal firm would have elicited a mirthless laugh. But I started to realize how much the injustices that had been inflicted on me should never harm anyone else. How no one else should ever feel powerless, voiceless, like any move they make could make or break their fate. Like they'd be better off in a permanent position of stalemate.

The 3 AM black coffee was wearing off, and as I turned on the ignition at 6 PM the following day and made my way home, home to the town I had spent so much time dreaming about escaping, I fought my leaded eyelids until I arrived at the barn, and crashed.

— **Alison —**

Two and-a-half years of combat training and service had taken their toll on her. Emily was already a serious girl, but the army had invigorated that aspect of her personality like no other. It had been two weeks since she'd arrived home from five months in her Fort Jackson unit. She could only visit us every four. Three times a year. As expected, I had started questioning my strength in sustaining this, knowing how much stronger she was than me, and how Lily and Grace needed her. She served our country while being the best mother she could be. And for that, her unwavering commitment eluded mine.

I stroked her finely detailed cheek, running my fingertip down her pronounced jawline as she slept. She was beautiful. I couldn't resist waking her up.

"Em."

She didn't stir.

"Em!"

Emily jolted awake, gasping. I was taken aback.

"Emily, it's me. It's Alison."

Emily turned slightly, looking at me for a solid minute, unspeaking. Then, she got up. She cupped her head in her hands, and I heard the familiar, repetitive sound of her crying.

If there was one thing I wasn't good at, it was comforting. I lay in bed, thinking for a minute. I followed her to the other side of the bedroom and placed my hand on her shoulder.

"Em. You haven't been yourself since you got back from the South. I would ask you to talk to me, but…" she paused, not knowing how to continue. "I think we… I think you should see someone."

"I'm not psychotic, Alison!" Emily exclaimed exasperated, loudly, but not loudly enough to awaken the girls.

"Then… what is it?"

"I… I don't know how I'll adjust. It's the last day before summer's over. I'm back at the high school in two days, and I'm just expected to start teaching squabbling JV girls the difference between the trudgen and the backstroke. I'm scared… I'm scared in a way that I didn't feel in South Carolina. And it's ridiculous. This is my home. I'm with the people I love. I just…"

"Emily."

I looked at her square in the eyes, my hand firmly rested on her shoulder.

"You are not alone. I will help you. You know I'll be teaching the iambic pentameter just a minute or two away. You need to know that there is nothing to fear anymore. We don't have to worry about the walls having ears anymore. Everything is just as it should be. And I… we… love you."

With that, I hugged her. She reciprocated the embrace, sobbing. I took her by the hand and tucked her in bed.

– **Aria –**

Even though the deadline was looming, I didn't feel like a fish being forced out from the depths of the oceanic abyss. I was writing prolifically, in a way that I hadn't done since I'd been freelance blogging and writing in Quito, Ecuador for a semester. Our latest book was unraveling itself, intuitively, almost without our help.

Our publisher was right. We were quite the team. He was the thinker, and I was the doer. I thought to myself, smiling at nothing in particular. I had needed that semester. We had. Even after there wasn't a need to live, cowering in fear, we both realized that to progress as a couple, that we needed significant time together. Alone. Outside of Pennsylvania. Outside of the United States. I had learnt Spanish, trekked the Andes (in boots), and had devoured finer South American food than Alvaro's Patio in Philadelphia. I had pet alpacas, embroidered my own purse, and even been in the vintage, historic quarter of town, and had learned that film noire wasn't all there was to the finer days of time.

But I was home now. Home in the miniature unadventurous, unremarkable town that had been anything but humdrum in my younger years.

My phone rang, shrilly, filling the otherwise silent apartment above the Brew.

I jolted my head off the self-embroidered pillow.

"Hello?"

"Aria?"

The smile that had been on my face seconds before disappeared.

"Who is this?" I asked pointedly, even though I would've recognized the foxy, sly voice on the other end from miles away.

"Who do you think, sweetie? No need to fret, it's not Hackett." I could positively hear Mona Vanderwaal smiling complacently on the other end, and only gnashed my teeth at that comment after hanging the phone up.

"Mona? What… why are… why are you calling me here? How…" I sounded like an idiot, and knew Mona would profit off of that.

"Je rentre à la maison. Paris isn't working anymore. It does get awfully cold here in wintertime." I could hear the familiar sound of lipstick being applied as she spoke. Classic. I had come to my senses.

"Okay, that's fine and all, (though it wasn't that tidy) but it doesn't explain why you're calling me."

Mona sighed on the other end.

Her tone changed. "I meant to call Mike. We… we got in touch again. I… I lost his number. I know he's in Philadelphia right now and I wanted to meet him when I arrived." I could hear a note of longing in her voice. She sighed again. Before I could interject to ask why she was coming back at all, and what the hell she had been up to for the last two years, she quickly said, "Just tell him to call me. Please. Thanks, Aria. Maybe I'll see you."

With that, she hung up. Mona Vanderwaal had disappeared from the grid the day after Alex Drake was imprisoned. Hanna had tried to orchestrate a dinner with her, but to her and everyone's surprise, Mona had rather brusquely rebutted the offer, stating that any duty Mona had in relation to "Hanna and her posse" was fulfilled and that she wanted to be left alone. Subsequently, Mona had stopped answering calls or texts, and only after a barrage of voicemails after Mona's mom had been hospitalized, did she inform Hanna that she was in Paris and had no intention of returning. Apparently, Mike, who had come back to Rosewood after a year of "disowning the family" had been in contact with her long before…

I had no idea why she was returning, or what her return entailed.

 **\- Hanna -**

Two-and-a-half-year-old, blond, brown-eyed Lindy spattered solution all over the high chair and hurled a spoon across the room, which Caleb caught in one hand.

"Damn! Good one!" I laughed.

Mom whipped around from the fridge and scowled at me.

"Sorry. Nice! Good one!" I corrected myself, rolling my eyes. Caleb smirked.

"Will you kill me if I tell you how much she reminds me of you?"

"Maybe. Just maybe." I walked across the kitchen, pecking him on the cheek, grinning.

"So when do you want to head out?" Caleb asked, putting breakfast in the fridge.

"Thirty minutes works. Mom, you'll be with Lindy, right?"

"That was the plan, stranger."

I smiled. Thirty minutes later, we got in the car, on the way to the office of Veronica Hastings, who was running for Pennsylvania office a second time after being turned away the first time by a campaign blemish. Caleb was her IT specialist, and I liked to think of myself as her… "aesthetic advisor".

"She's cute, but the second she puts that gunk on one of my dresses, she's going to be doing more than church rummage sales, I'll tell you."

Caleb laughed as he clutched the steering wheel.

"Remember when you called me a creep in high school? I had greasy, gunky hair and survived off of Fritos from the vending machine while sleeping in the vent room above the library?"

"Duh. I pepper sprayed you."

We burst out laughing. We'd come so far.

"I wasn't much better. Wannabe-hourglass it-girls aren't that far up the social ladder."

We kept laughing as we pulled into the parking lot, and kissed each other.

Being Veronica's "aesthetic advisor" was informal and meant that I provided Caleb with moral support as he cracked out campaign logistics. I followed him in, meandering aimlessly through the headquarters.

"You know, Melissa was not excited about the design and the outfit you chose for next week's presentation." Caleb said as he logged onto the office desktop.

I scoffed, annoyed. Melissa, who had been in town for the last two years was as unpleasant and nitpicky as she was perfect. I swore, if Melissa hadn't vetoed everything that I did, or if Spencer had been Veronica's little advisor, Veronica would be much more open to my suggestions.

"Well, if Melissa, who's dressed like frumpy mama since she was ten, knows about style and aesthetics she should take my job. Gee, even if, Knowing her, the press would sleep till Christmas if she designed the layout for the pre—"

A very feminine throat clearing caused me to whip around. Melissa stood, arms crossed, behind me. Having heard everything, she was not amused. Crap. I was embarrassed.

"He has work to do, you know."

I smiled, resisting my urge to continue with my tirade. Caleb smirked, and turned his attention to the desktop. She side-eyed me as I scurried out, back home to my mind my devil of a daughter.

The plinging of my phone as I walked to the car roused my attention.

1 New Message From Aria:

Mona's back.

Freezing in my tracks, I stood in the parking lot. I looked around. Melissa stared at me from the office, scowling, drilling eyes into my head as she stood.

Feeling slightly nauseous, I hurried into the car, started the ignition, and drove home.

 _\- END -_

The impatient drumming of black-gloved fingers continued on the table of the RV for a good minute or two before stopping. The figure stood up, walking back and forth throughout the RV, pacing faster and faster each round. Something had gone deeply wrong.

A phone was picked up, as a voice unintelligible to all except the recipient of the message, said:

"You screwed up. And you know what happens when you go off-script. The deal is over. You will never see her again."

The figure hung up the phone, calmly placing it in its holder. The figure then walked, slowly, measuredly, to the storage room, containing years-unused equipment with dust so thick that it almost evoked a sneeze. The figure removed a hatchet from a plastic box, and with unprecedented violence, smashed a porcelain doll's face into bits, before slamming the storage room door, leaving the dust that had fallen off the shelves to settle to the ground.

 **So, what do you guys think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi all!**

 **I have decided to shift from first to third person.**

 **First person really limits my ability to jump between perspectives and scenes and very much imposes on my creativity.**

 **I hope this doesn't change much for you with regard to the actual storyline.**

 **Thanks!**

 **\- I -**

Just as the seven-AM orange-yellow sun peered through the evergreen leaves of the trees at seven surrounding the Hastings barn, a powerfully built, handsome man walked up the gravel path and to the patio door.

"Knock knock!"

From underneath the covers, Spencer grinned.

"Who's there?"

"Well, well, well…" she could hear him walking slowly towards her bed. Like an eight-year-old girl hiding from the Boogieman, Spencer hid her entire body under the covers without a single limb poking out.

"I guess you'll just have to come and see…"

He grabbed her leg.

"Won't you?"

At this point, Spencer was fully out of the covers, and facing the intruder. His eyes were blue-green and radiated sunlight. She smiled. The pair kissed.

"How are you?" Toby asked, in that unabashedly sincere, thoughtful way he mastered.

"I've missed you."

He reclined. They both lay on the bed, facing the ceiling.

"I want to see you more too. Which is why I want you to come camping in the Ozarks with me next week during your… week-long vacation."

At this Spencer laughed mirthlessly.

"Toby. I'll kick your ass in Western any day of the week, but good luck finding a trekking pole on any of the acres of our property."

"Spencer. You know so much. But you have to expand your horizons."

Spencer rested her head on his shoulder.

"Okay, Carnegie. I'll become a horsefly-magnet under one condition."

Whispering into his ear… "I get all the s'mores and all the caffeine I want. And you do not get to grimace when I make your cup. Oh, and…" she leaned even closer. "We play Risk instead of Scrabble."

Before he could open his mouth in protest, the phone rang.

"Hold that thought."

Spencer raced to the other side of the barn, in the kitchen, where she could look at Bashful pawing the dirt.

"Hello?"

"Spence?"

"Ali! How are you?" Spencer turned around, making a gesture to Toby, who didn't look enthused.

"We'll talk about me later." Alison sighed, and then dramatically stated, "Emily's back."

At this, unable to mask her surprise, Spencer quickly put the phone on speaker so that Toby could hear.

"What? How is she?"

"She's dead tired. She's super different. She seems really isolated right now. Like a fish out of water. And that's why I want you to pep her up before she comes back to school tomorrow. Coffee after you get out? And bring your beau. He and her jive in a way that eludes the rest of us."

Spencer looked at Toby, though neither of them were smiling.

"Yeah, um… we'll both be there."

"Thank you, Spencer. It means a lot to me. To us."

"Bye, Alison."

Toby and Spencer looked at each other. They had seen Emily when she'd come home from the army (three times a year), but now that she was back permanently, and starting her job at Rosewood High, they were sure things would be beyond difficult for her.

Spencer put the phone down, and sullenly sat next to Toby on the bed.

 **\- II -**

By the time the flight from Montreal to Philadelphia landed in the runway, Mona's body was sore and stiff. Not because of any uncomfortable positioning, no. Because of the tension that returning home brought. The pang of nostalgia as the plane flew over Pennsylvania's rolling hills and ridges sheerly juxtaposed the hostility she just knew she'd receive as she rolled through Rosewood's city limits.

Mona made her way to the baggage claim. Five large designer bags rolled out, one after the other, perfectly neat and organized, and she seized them off the conveyor belt, sticking them onto the metal cart, which she rolled out to the terminal entrance.

"Mona!"

Mona wheeled around to see him. The one guy in this state who she knew she could count on. The guy who'd written her messages, and never had any ulterior motives to asking her how she was doing. The guy she deep, deep down, loved.

"Mike!"

Right away, the pair embraced, and started rolling her cart to his SUV.

"You look tired."

"That's off-script, you know. But yeah, I'm beat."

As he started the ignition, and drove into the city, Mona tried identifying all the changes that had taken place since she'd left, in corner shops, boutiques, restaurants, and even the flowers that grew out of sidewalk cracks. Mona needed to stay away. She knew she wasn't wanted, but now, she was sure of who she was. She didn't need validation, and Paris had just been a coping mechanism.

Thirty minutes later, as we rolled into Rosewood, Mike turned to her, and rubbed her shoulder.

"Hey. If you're not comfortable, you can stay at my place."

Mona smiled.

"I just want to see my room again."

Although Mona knew that one way or another, she would have to talk to the girl whose friendship she was starved for.

 **\- III -**

The kitchen clock read 1:31 PM. Alison put her heavily annotated version of Twelfth Night next to A Midsummer Night's Dream on her wooden bookshelf and rose slowly from the couch. Lily and Grace were at Pam's until the evening, which was perfect.

Alison pulled the cookies out of the oven, poking them with a spatula to make sure they were just the right texture. She then took out grapes, crackers, and cheese from the fridge, which she set out onto the table. There would be five, six guests, she thought to herself, making sure there were just enough platelets and serviettes.

All the while, Emily sat vacantly on the queen-sized bed in their bedroom, staring at herself, or at nothing in particular, in the mirror. She wore light colors, as selected by Alison to make her feel "more content" than she had been.

At 1:59, Aria rapped on the door.

"Are you sure it's fine that we didn't bring anything?", asked Ezra, scratching his head.

Aria, turned, smiling. "Yes! Besides, Ali likes being in charge."

"No, but I mean for Emily."

"Alison told us not to bring gifts. That'd overwhelm her."

Alison opened for them, they all embraced.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she said, ushering them to take a seat in her living room.

Then, Toby and Spencer, and Hanna and Caleb.

The second that the door opened, Hanna peeled herself from Caleb's side, and practically lunged at the open seat next to Aria. While she was glad to see her friend, her absorption of Aria's attention was motivated by her discomfort in concealing something as inflammatory as Mona's whereabouts from Caleb. Caleb, confused, dismissed her behavior as Hanna-odd, and sat next to Ezra instead.

Aria and Hanna exchanged meaningful glances.

Hanna whispered, "How long have you known?"

"She called me yesterday evening. It sounded like she was about to leave."

"I guess I just don't understand why she would do this now. I…"

Aria shrugged her shoulders, turning her attention away from Hanna so that nobody caught onto their conversation.

Alison sat on a couch by herself, facing her guests.

"Thank you all. It… it's amazing that you took time out of your day to come and sit with us. Emily really needs to know she's supported right now. She—"

"Is not made of glass."

Seven heads whipped around to the staircase, as Emily, whose normally olive-colored face exhibit a new kind of pallor, stood, at half-step, ghostly. Her face was stoic, but it was clear that being treated as if she were a fragile vase was not on her personal road to recovery.

"I've missed you guys. It's great to see you, and I'm thankful that you're here," she said, walking down the stairs, and pointedly plopping down next to Spencer, instead of Alison, who looked a bit like she'd been slapped.

Toby took Emily by the hand, and encouragingly smiled at her. She turned to him, and for the first time since she had returned from service, beamed, as the smile that had made her so well-loved in high school spread from cheek to cheek.

"I'm so thankful that you're here," she repeated.

 **\- IV -**

From outside Alison's house, a woman stood on the opposite side of the street, looking in through the window at the crowd, unnoticed. The tension had visibly reduced, as Emily and Toby looked to be laughing, and everybody was indulging in Alison's hors d'oeuvres.

The woman turned to the taller man standing next to her.

"Seems to me like they're all together. You know what you need to do."

The woman handed the man a folder. Just as it looked like she was about to part ways with the stranger, she turned, and said:

"Use just one. Too much ammunition will backfire on us both."

She turned back around, and stepped into a cab, which sped off, as the man slipped into the bushes.

 **\- V -**

It was 6:03 PM. Almost everyone had left Alison's house, bidding goodbye to Emily, who seemed to have greatly benefitted from the company, and whose countenance seemed to have lightened up. They wished her luck at her first day coaching tomorrow, and walked off into the night.

Emily and Toby sat on the steps of the lit DiLaurentis porch, both with a glass of white wine in their hands.

"So the concert's all the way in Jacksonville?"

Toby slid the grip of the glass back and forth in his palm.

"Yep."

"I hate Florida, but…" Emily paused. "Their new album's amazing. Their cover art got better too."

Toby laughed. "Circa Survive hasn't changed much since 2009, has it, Em?"

Both of them chuckled, enjoying the silence of the night, and the cool breeze.

Emily started.

"You know, when I was gone… there was a lot I missed about home. I missed the Brew, the pool, Ali, Lily, Grace, Mom… even my job. I missed this stupid town like crazy."

"Believe it or not, I know the feeling," Toby responded, finishing his glass.

"But I kept thinking that I missed you. You… you know what it's like to be ostracized in a way that none of us do… did. You… you know how to stay strong when everything seems like it'll break apart. You even know how to give other people that strength."

Toby smiled, looking down at his pant leg, as Emily continued.

"What I'm saying is… I'm starting to feel that way. Excluded. Left out. Like everything that goes on in my head just is beyond everyone else." Emily corrected herself, looking down, embarrassed. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

Without so much as hesitating, Toby put his hand on Emily's knee.

"Emily. I need you to know something."

Emily slowly turned her head in his direction.

"You aren't a victim to me. I won't treat you like you're made of glass, because you aren't. I'll expect from you what I expect from everyone else. But when your safe haven is out of reach, I want you to know that I'll always be there to catch you… and to listen to some awesome tunes on the way."

Emily nodded, and slowly smiled, as the first droplets of rain started to pour down from the silky gray clouds.

"Thank you, Toby, for looking at me the same way you did all those years ago. Even when I treated you otherwise."

 **\- VI -**

This was typical. Absolutely classic. When there was a problem, Mike would flee from it. He would refuse to acknowledge it, or the people who'd ask him about it. Aria had been trying to get in touch with him for the last day, fruitlessly, and could just see him methodically dodging her texts and declining her calls. She was seething.

"So, Mike's just ignoring you?"

She had told Ezra everything on the way back from Alison's house.

"Well, yeah. I mean, he knows that I'm onto him about Mona."

Ezra nodded, pensively stroking his chin.

Aria lay her head on his knees, as he stroked her hair.

"There's so much going on all of a sudden. It's like we're just so over our heads."

A slight scoff escaped from Ezra's mouth. "You say it like you didn't anticipate it."

"I'm just worried about Emily."

Ezra nodded.

"Emily's always been strong, Aria. She can handle what this world throws her way. Especially when she has you and the rest of your friends."

Aria pushed herself off of Ezra's lap.

"How can we make being here easier for her? I mean, I'll take Lily and Grace to school, go walking with her, drop food off, an—"

Ezra lay his hand on her shoulder. "Like you said, Emily doesn't take kindly to being overwhelmed. Give her the space she needs while being the friend she deserves."

Aria took his hand, curling her fingers in his. A rose-colored smile crept across her face.

"I spoke to Sheryl this morning."

Ezra turned his head, making eye contact with her. Sheryl was their counselor at the maternity center, and had guided them in more ways than one through the strenuous process of inter-state adoption.

"She sent me another possibility. I want you to see this girl, she's beautiful."

"Where's she from?" Ezra asked.

"D.C."

As Aria pulled out her tablet, Ezra planted a kiss on her cheek. The pair's apprehension was for that instant palliated by an image of a six-year-old girl with a wide, gap-toothed grin, pink shirt, white summer skirt, and pigtails reclining on a rocking horse in front of a wooden swingset.

 **\- VII -**

The second Hanna got home, without Caleb, who was finishing up at the office, she powered upstairs to her room, and started to clean, ferociously. She did this when she needed to dissociate from what was going on around her. It was the only way things got done. Thinking about what she could do to make Emily's life easier, and keeping Mona's return a secret from Caleb had simply been driving her insane.

"And since when do you clean?"

Without acknowledging her presence with her eyes, Hanna replied to her mother, snarkily.

"I'm not an imbecile. Being a mom makes you more conscescentious."

Ashley walked up to her and lay her hand on her shoulder.

"Not the word, sweetie. Put the duster down."

Hanna rolled her eyes, visibly vexed.

"Why should I?"

Ashley pulled Hanna down to the armchair so that she was facing her at eye level.

"I know something's upset you. And I know that when you're upset, you deflect. But I want you to leave that behind. Talk to me."

Hanna sighed.

"It really isn't anything important."

"Nor is letting Billy Joel breathe past the blanket of dust. Talk."

Hanna's guard came down, and her thoughts flooded out.

"Aria told me that Mona's back in town. I don't know what I'll do. She cut me off and I just don't know how or if I'll be able to see her again. I've thought about her, and I know that I'm responsible for her mental illness, but…"

"No."

The fire in Ashley's eyes blazed like a winter hearth.

"You are in no way responsible for Mona's mental illness. Nobody is. I don't know how I can help you, but if it makes things right, I'll talk to Leona. See if we can rekindle something."

Hanna jolted upright.

"No! No, Mom. This is something I need to do myself, if at all. I just… whatever you do, don't tell Caleb."

"I won't."

"Mom!"

"I promise you. If Caleb finds out, it won't be from me."

As Ashley's heels clicked down the hall, Hanna turned to the crib, and looked at Lindy, for the first time fast asleep.

"What will I do?" She asked her, tracing her rosy cheeks with her finger.

 **\- VIII -**

Spencer bit her nails on one hand while typing the minutes for yesterday's meeting with another, all at a caffeine-fueled, viper speed. Melissa sat cross-legged on Spencer's barn couch, reading Memoirs of a Geisha on her Kindle.

The Hastings sisters did this often. With their mother circumnavigating Pennsylvania with her campaign team, it was natural for them to seek each other's company, even as they ignored each other, and as their conversations, though mostly benign, were laced with borderline hostile sarcasm and disparaging commentary.

There was a rapid knock on the front door of the barn.

"Does Toby not have a key by now?" Melissa said, not looking up from her book, her irritation at being interrupted apparent as she spoke.

Spencer was equally confused. She was not expecting company.

"Of course he does," she said, getting up to answer it.

She opened the door in a sweeping motion, and there, his long hair and beard doused from the rain, was her half-brother, bearing a paper shopping bag.

"Jason. Hey!"

The two embraced.

"I haven't seen you in months, what the hell have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Scrounging around, eating leftovers and making sense of the world."

He lifted the paper bag, exposing freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, sheepishly grinning.

"Can I come in?"

Lightning struck.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Spencer motioned.

"Can I get you hot cocoa?"

"Gladly. I just came to drop these off though."

"And since when do you bake?" Spencer asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Ha. They're Ali's. She's on a baking kick."

Spencer chuckled as Jason sat himself down in a chair on the island counter.

"Melissa! Where's the chocolate powder?"

No response. Spencer rolled her eyes, heading into the living room, where Melissa had been only a minute earlier. The Kindle sat on the couch, still powered on, but no sign of Melissa. Weird. Spencer came back into the kitchen, as Jason was on his phone.

"I guess it's just us."

"No worries. It's to be expected," Jason said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

"So, why don't you tell me all about this world you've been trying to make sense of," Spencer said, as she pulled the raw cocoa from the shelf, and started making hot chocolate the hard way.

 **\- IX -**

As Toby's coffee-colored truck ambled out of Alison's windy driveway, the door to the DiLaurentis house opened, and Alison stood, hands on her hips.

"The girls are back," she said, awkwardly, stiffly.

Without turning her head, Emily let out, "Good," in a dulled voice.

Alison couldn't contain her frustration any longer.

"Okay, what the absolute hell was that?"

Emily turned her head around, slowly, almost as if her neck were disconnected from the neurons in her brain. "What?"

Tears started to bud in Alison's normally placid, on the occasion even mischievous, sky blue eyes.

"You've spent at the damn least two hours talking to Toby, who you haven't seen in over a year. You've talked to Caleb, to Aria, to Hanna, to Spencer, to Ezra, to your mother, hell, you were even all chatty with that douche ex-Vice Principal Tamborelli at the grocers on Sunday. But you seem to be especially reserving the monosyllabic backchat for me, and that can't happen anymore."

Emily looked at her lap, her hands nervously wringing each other.

"I just want you to tell me what I can do to make your life easier, Emily. Let me in. Please."

The blonde was drilling holes into Emily's head with her eyes. For a few minutes, silence.

Then Alison started.

"When I was an ugly human being, you saw a beautiful soul. You make the world a better place because you see the good in it."

Emily looked up, for the first time making proper eye contact with her wife. The words had had an effect.

"You can keep seeing the good in everything, Emily. I'm not pretending to understand everything you went through for these last two years, but I know that you left to be stronger. And I know you well enough to know that that's exactly the way you came back. Even if I can't see it right now."

Emily rose from the steps, and took Alison's hand in hers.

"I think I'm ready, Ali."

"Ready for what, Em?"

"To move on. Together."

 **\- X -**

Film noire Phyllis Dietrichson's face froze on the pixellated television screen as the shrill ringtone of the Fitz-Montgomery residence phone interrupted the increasingly suspenseful scene.

Aria groaned, burying her face in Ezra's plaid shirt.

Not. A. Moment. Of. Peace.

"Shucks! It's my favorite part, too," Ezra stood up, leaving Aria lying head-down on the couch.

"Hello?"

Silence. Ezra turned chalk white.

"Can you… can you please explain how this happened?"

"But… I guess I just thought everything was going smoothly…"

Aria scrabbled herself up into a standing position, as red flags emerged all over the place. Ezra, in a trance, hung the phone up without another word, and looked at his wife, mouth slightly agape.

"What was that?!"

"We've been rejected from the entire national adoption system. They… they've deemed us unfit. There are… there seem to have been anonymous concerns about the welfare of benefiting children."

It was as if a dam had been opened, and Aria's future had been flooded. The girl who had stood before a swingset only a moment before was sucked into a vortex of impossibility. All she could muster was a whispered, "What?"

Just as Ezra opened his mouth, the door to their apartment was pounded.

Ezra opened. Aria was transfixed to the spot. One of Rosewood's finest, clad in uniform, stood on their step. Before Aria knew it, she felt sick. Sick to her stomach, as if she were being blasted into an abyss that she had created, without her consent.

She could see her pallid reflection in the officer's night black acetate sunglass lenses, and see the hallway light bounce off of the jet-black pistol strapped on his waist holster.

"Ezra Fitz, you're under arrest for multiple counts of criminal harassment of a minor, and for one count of statutory rape."

 **\- FINIS -**

Despite the handcuffs, Alex Drake was animatedly gesturing at a hooded figure at the table, seated across from her in the visiting room.

"This isn't the deal we made. I only… did everything you ever asked me to do. I… I wasn't thinking like you told me to. I was afraid. You have to understand me. All I ever intended for, all I ever wanted was…" Alex started to fight her tears, as she tried as hard as she could to maintain her tough, normally unfazed countenance. "Please."

The hooded figure nodded curtly at a guard on the opposite side of the room, who took her by the arms and escorted her outside.

Alex wheeled her head around as she was escorted out. By now, tears soaked her face, as she angrily spat out:

"After everything that I've done for you, everything I gave up, if you don't help me, I'll find someone who will!"

Secretly, Alex knew that she was done with. It was only a matter of time before she'd resign to her fate.

The hooded figure left the visitation room, signed out of the guest book, helped itself to two buttercup candies, and disappeared into the rainy, unforgiving winter night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Happy New Year!**

 **I only realized once I uploaded how long this chapter AND the next will be! After that it tones down a bit. I've been on vacation lately and have had a lot more time on my hands than I'm accustomed to. I'm sorry if it's a pain, and thanks for bearing with it.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **\- 0 -**

It was 5:12 AM, on January 20th, 2018. The ground of the endlessly sprawling fields surrounding the troop headquarters at Fort Jackson, South Carolina was frozen solid, as the only form of life within a range of twenty-five miles were spots of lichen and moss adorning practically the petrified tree branches.

Everything else was hibernating, and anything that wasn't was long gone as one of many female units marched up to a well-lit clearing, bearing carbines, mortars, and javelins. General-in-training Emily Fields, who had called the unit home for the last two years, was experienced in every device of combat, but had forgone handling the M107 .50 caliber LRSR sniper that was a prerequisite to rising in rank.

The comrade who had explained that particular branch of artillery to her, Breeanne, next to her stepped aside as Emily did what she had spent the last month learning how to do. Breeanne smiled at her encouragingly.

"You got this, Emily. And even if you don't get it this time, it's okay. Show us what you got."

Emily positioned herself exactly as she was instructed to. She could clearly see her target—a poorly fabricated dummy made of blue-grey cloth. This was the first step towards rising in rank, and potentially graduating early. She readied herself, grimacing in the cold, but not letting it mangle with her focus.

Something caught the corner of her eye.

Emily's jaw dropped, as her blood, which was working harder than ever in freezing weather, turned to ice.

A hooded figure, clad in all black from head to toe, with a balaclava covering its face, was walking, unperturbed by the artillery in front of it. It was headed at a relatively quick pace towards Breeanne, whose attention was directed towards the rest of the hungry, tired, and unfocused troop. The figure bore a large, brandished bayonet.

She screamed Breeanne's name, but not a word came out. And before she knew it, Breeanne, and the figure behind her, were lying on the floor, blood turning the snow into a crimson red. They were both dead, shot at point-blank range by Emily's bullets.

 **\- I -**

Hanna swerved into the parking lot of the Rosewood Police Department at 10:45 PM, at twice the posted speed limit, almost colliding into Spencer, Emily, and Alison.

"Where is she?" She demanded, bolting out of her improperly parked car, not bothering to shut the drivers' side door.

Spencer was agitated. "She's inside. She's going to need backup. Let's get in there," she rushed out, motioning towards the inside of the building.

The four girls ran up the steps, and frantically looked until Alison identified her.

Aria was visibly sobbing into her mother's shoulder, as her father was in the midst of a heated dispute with Officer Maple.

"We came as fast as we could," Emily exclaimed, as she and the rest of the girls sprinted up to them.

Ella turned, facing her.

"He's been detained for the last thirty minutes. They won't let anyone see him for the next 72 hours at least."

Byron turned around next, as Maple walked into an off-limits room, leaving Aria, her parents, and the girls alone.

"Nothing we say is going to change this. We can clamor all we like, but…"

The sound of high heels and jingling car keys captured everyone's attention on the spot.

"Where is he?! What has been charged with? Are you aware of what I will do to you when…?"

Dianne Fitzgerald, looking the most disheveled anyone had seen her, stampeded into the precinct as fast as her four-inch heels would allow her. Huffing from the effort it had taken her, and disorientedly looking around, she supported herself by leaning on a desk.

"Sh**," said Byron, as Ella kicked him in the shin.

It was futile.

Dianne's normally emotionless, cold eyes, turned a shade of unadulterated wrath that would give Veronica Hastings nightmares, as the Montgomery family entered her field of view.

"You… you did this."

Silence.

Dianne charged.

"Why, you wretched, wretched skank!"

Byron had come to his senses. "Watch it, Dianne!" He yelled, barricading her from assaulting Aria, who had pulled herself from her mom's shoulder, and looked as petrified as the rest.

In a fierce, yet leveraged tone, he said. "They're going to get to the bottom of this. You are in a precinct, so pull yourself together like the rest of us."

An officer approached, as Byron turned.

Addressing all the girls, he demanded, "Take Aria. Whatever it is you do, don't let her out of your sight. Get out!"

 **\- II -**

"This isn't up for debate, Aria. You're eating breakfast."

Alison, clutching a silent Lily, who was holding a plate with pancakes, in one arm and a skillet filled with eggs, bacon, and hash browns in another. Alison had clearly been up all night. The girls had been at the DiLaurentis house all night.

"Well, I'm not sure about you giraffes, but I'm getting me some maple-drizzled bacon," Hanna stated, matter-of-factly.

Emily shot her an incredulous look. Aria stared vacantly into space. Spencer took a sip of 6:20 AM black coffee. Grace was making a teepee with toothpicks aboard a syrup-doused waffle.

Alison decided she'd serve everyone a little bit of everything.

Hanna shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Aria, you're coming with me," she declared, not bothering to ask Aria what she preferred.

"That's probably for the best, Hanna. I have to take the twins to school before second period, it's Em's first day back, and Spence's office rivals Cristina Yang's apartment. Sorry, Spence," Alison said, as she set a plate in front of everyone.

Spencer scoffed.

If Aria had heard the conversation taking place around her, it wasn't clear. Emily stared at her intently.

"Dianne is right," Aria suddenly uttered, unintelligibly.

"What?" Emily leaned towards Aria, her hand gently touching her arm.

"She's right. I did this," Aria said, loudly and sharply this time. "It's because of the file. This is something I did. Someone must have found another copy and turned it in."

"Aria, you don't know that for sure," Spencer corrected.

Aria laughed. A dark, bitter, piercing laugh that had Spencer and the other girls avert their gazes.

"Then tell me, Spencer. Why is Ezra hitched in a cellblock after three years?"

Spencer didn't have an answer.

Aria looked down again.

"Spencer, I'm sorry. But I know why this happened."

Spencer replied again. "Aria, if what you're saying is true, then you don't understand the ramifications of what that would entail."

Suddenly, the hue on Aria's face changed, as she seemed to put two and two together.

Alison had taken her seat at the head of the table. "Wait a minute, you're not saying that A is back, are you? Because if you are, then…"

Now Hanna seemed to catch on.

"Aria, no."

"She did this."

Aria's face seemed to turn white, purple, and red all at once, as she stood up from the table, shaking.

"Aria, what are you talking a—?"

"Mona's back," Hanna said, as fast as she could, her eyes intently studying the wood of the table.

"What?!" Emily and Spencer both jolted upright simultaneously.

"Hanna, since when?" Alison demanded.

"I don't know when she got back. Just that she's back from… from France."

"Why wouldn't you tell us this?" Emily asked, shaking her head.

"So are we saying that this is Mona's Parisian souvenir? Because as much as I'd like to think that's why she's been AWOL for the last two years, it's a little bit…"

Spencer was interrupted by Aria.

"Surreal."

The four girls looked at their friend, whose expression had gone back into outer space.

Alison took note of the twins' concerned facial expressions. It was now seven AM. Fortunately, Aria had not done anything drastic.

"We can't jump to conclusions without tangible evidence, guys," Alison started. Before anyone could interject, she continued. "I'm taking Lily and Grace to school. Emily, come with. Hanna, take Aria home with you. We'll go to the police station later today in case there's been any developments."

The girls went their respective ways.

 **\- III -**

The stout, middle-aged teacher put one hand on Lily's shoulder, Grace scampering ahead as she waved goodbye to Alison and Emily, who were pulling out of the miniature parking lot of Rosewood Day. It seemed to have shrunk.

Emily was staring ahead, shaking her head continuously.

"Who did this to them?"

Alison turned towards her wife, and sighed.

"I don't know, Em."

"This doesn't make sense unless someone's targeting her again. It's been three years since—"

"Emily."

Alison cut her off.

"I can't imagine what Aria's going through right now, and as her friends it's our duty to worry, but… I can't see you worrying like this right now. You just got—"

Emily's face turned crimson.

"You can't see me worrying like this?"

Alison looked away.

"I meant—"

"Alison, our best friend's husband just got arrested, and she's blaming herself. If you don't want me to worry, then you need to go onto PinkCupid and find yourself another match. Don't forget that Ezra has done a lot for both of us, too, and that this is the last thing he deserves" Emily was boiling over.

"How can you expect me to just compose my swim syllabus like this isn't a big deal? This, this is exactly what I hate," Emily started unbuckling herself at the signal. "Being treated like a victim. You aren't even allowing me to try to help my friend because I'm just too fragile. Too delicate. Don't you care at all?"

"Emily, no, wait—"

Emily got out in the middle of the street, saying:

"It's a ten-minute walk to school. I can't do this with you right now."

She slammed the passenger door to Alison's car and ran to the sidewalk, leaving Alison with no other choice but to drive to school alone.

 **\- IV -**

Even as Spencer looked at herself in the mirror, hoping wearing the elegant, perfectly fitting white blouse Toby had bought her to work would make her feel better, her insides were churning. Toby sat, elbows on knees, face in palm, on her bed.

"I can't imagine what that'd be like," he said, staring into space.

"What?"

"Losing you like that."

Spencer sighed. She turned around.

"Me neither."

"If there's anything I can do for Aria, you know to—"

"Yeah, I know. She'll appreciate it."

Spencer lowered herself to sit next to Toby.

"There has to be some way that this can be undone. I mean, this is about Aria, and she doesn't want it, so I'd thin—"

Spencer turned towards her boyfriend, brow raised cynically.

"You relinquished your badge over two-and-a-half years ago. I don't think Lieutenant Tanner gives a damn what you think."

Toby nodded, and resumed staring at his knees.

Spencer looked down to the floor as well.

"Sorry. That came out way harsher than intended."

It was time for a change of subject.

"God, I don't know how I'm supposed to prepare a mockup and meet with the client all in one day. I just won't be able to focus."

"You will. I've seen you," Toby said, planting a kiss on the back of Spencer's neck.

All Spencer wanted to do was disappear under the covers. Hide from the world and all the questions swimming around in her head.

"I don't care how you feel. This isn't about you. You can't just do as you please and expect me to jump on board with it."

Spencer jerked up. She made a hushing gesture to Toby. Melissa was on her phone, walking on the side of the stables facing the main house. She slowly ambled towards the side of the barn where she could best hear the conversation.

"Listen to me. Everything that happened to me, no, to all of us, is her fault."

Melissa was visibly worked up, her hand combing through her disheveled morning hair.

"Are you out of your bloody mind? What the hell is wrong with you? You were not enlisted to help her. It's people like you who make it so difficult, no, impossible, to get things done. You won't hear the end of this."

Melissa hung up the phone. She threw her hands up into the air, frustrated, and walked briskly into the main house.

Toby stood right behind Spencer as she turned around. They exchanged a glance.

"What was that?" He asked, confused.

"I don't know… all I know is that I'll be late."

She pecked him on the cheek, and made her way to the car, trying to navigate the whirlwind of thoughts occupying her mind.

 **\- V -**

Aria lay with a vacant expression on Hanna's bed, facing the window out of her room. Hanna had left her alone so that she could shower.

Caleb rounded the corner to their bedroom.

"Hey, uh… have you eaten?"

Aria didn't turn.

"Yeah."

When Caleb was this perturbed, he knew that being left to his own devices was the only way to expedite recovery. He didn't need or appreciate therapy, compassion, endless rumination over the problem. Something told him, however, that this scenario was different.

He walked up to their bed, where Aria lay, curled up, and sat on it.

"Hanna and I were reading your guys' last book last night. It's brilliant. Though I'm sure you've been told that."

Aria didn't respond.

"Even Hanna agreed. And I mean, the only authors she likes are Jojo Moyes and Sophie Kinsella. Her favorite genre being chick lit. So, I hope that strikes a chord."

Still no response.

"What I guess I'm trying to say is… you have a voice. You can express yourself in ways that open the eyes of people with adhesive between their eyelids. I know it's not a legal loophole to get Ezra released, and it's not an immediate solution to your guys' situation, but… you know, writing shouldn't just be your livelihood. It should be something that helps you move on."

Caleb must indeed have struck some kind of chord, as Aria rolled over, and sat up.

"I don't know how I'll ever forgive myself."

Caleb nodded, pensively looking down.

"I know it's not the same thing, but I accused my dad of theft, and did the equivalent of estranging him. When I found out I was wrong, I wondered the same thing," he paused. "You have to forgive yourself, Aria. It's the only way you'll be prepared, and have what it takes for the fight that it takes to get him out and get the life you both deserve."

 **\- VI -**

At 11:05 AM, Spencer's head met the keyboard of her laptop. She just couldn't think. Her client was more difficult than she'd anticipated, and being the first case she'd take on alone, she really needed her top gear for this one. But it simply wasn't happening for her. Between Aria and Ezra's situation, Melissa's weirdness, and Mona's return, it felt as if she was regressing.

"Looks like you're having difficulties there."

Miriam, brow raised, leaned on the door of Spencer's temporarily haphazard cubicle.

Spencer let out an exaggerated laugh.

"I… um, yeah, I just didn't get the sleep I needed."

"Spencer, if defense attorney is your endgame, that frame of mind needs to go."

"Yeah, I'd imagine," Spencer replied, smiling, now somewhat with the rhythm.

"You also need to collect your bills. You're supposed to take your personal mail out weekly, not monthly—this isn't a residence," Miriam continued, holding out her hand, bearing multiple envelopes. "Though it does seem like it sometimes."

"Huh? Oh, of course, I am so sorry."

Spencer reached for the five-or-so envelopes, and flipped through them, not reading the outsides.

"Keep at it. Oh, and your client meeting's been pushed back. That doesn't happen often, so, carpe diem."

Miriam walked back to her office with a light, playful smirk.

Spencer was just about to open the case file for the mockup draft when one of the envelopes on her desk caught her eye.

"The Lost Woods Resort…" she mumbled.

She was perplexed. She hadn't accessed the resort she shared with Alison in years and had next to no clue as to why she'd be getting charged. Had Alison used it? Spencer tore the envelope open, and out rolled multiple utility slips.

Her jaw dropped, as the digits next to Water and Energy made her personal bills look meager, and at least quintupled her monthly salary. There was no way she'd be able to pay this on time. The amount of debt she'd be in was tremendous, and enough to make her mother ill again.

She knew what she had to do.

She reached for the phone.

Voicemail.

"Hi, Ali? When you get this message call me back immediately. It's important."

Spencer's face fell into her hands as she made a grim effort to compute how such a colossal error could have ever occurred in the first place.

 **\- VII -**

It was 12. For the remainder of the school day, the students of Rosewood High School were scheduled to attend a back-to-school assembly that would cut into their end-of-day classes. Emily was relieved. Although she had managed to establish an initial rapport with the varsity swimmers, and been successful in her non-sport beginners swimming classes, she knew that tomorrow she'd deal with the JVers. An atrocious bunch in every sense of the word.

She was exhausted, angry, and despondent, and with the rest of the teachers, due to the Staff Conference Room. There would be a meeting, and more likely than not abhorrent team-building exercises to endure.

At the front of the large, spacious conference room, were her colleagues from years before. She smiled at them as they welcomed her back, and she made her way in, making sure to dodge eye contact with Alison, who was chatting with Mrs. Welch and setting up the food court at the other side of the room, and who she hoped hadn't seen her.

Someone Emily hadn't expected to ever see again strolled in.

"Paige?" Emily muttered, to no one in particular, as in ambled Paige McCullers, smiling and embracing people who welcomed her back.

Emily quickly spun around to look at Alison, who had seen her. Alison's expression was one of pure shock. Was there anger mixed in? Apparently Alison hadn't expected her either. Emily turned back around so as not to be caught staring. Paige hadn't seen her, and walked towards a back row.

But the surprises weren't over yet.

Emily's insides turned to gruel as the all-too-dreaded tap, tap, tap of Jenna Marshall's cane announced her entry. She was dressed in a signature black outfit and oversized sunglasses obscuring her unseeing eyes. She took a seat in the otherwise empty front row, two rows ahead of Emily, thanking someone who had cleared the way for her.

Emily had not anticipated seeing these many people from her past. She could feel the agitation stewing her insides, sloshing around like ballast in a hull. Just as she thought she'd book it out of pure nerves, there was a light tap on her shoulder. She spun around.

"Emily?"

"Jason, hey!"

"I didn't know you were returning to this job. It's great to see you."

She grinned. Jason had always been kind to her.

"You as well. As for me, where else would I be? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm on the counseling team now. Part-time of course. When I'm not sitting on stocks. Honestly, this job really brought out a side in me I didn't know existed."

"Tell me about it," she said. "We'll catch up soon."

"Ali's been dying to have me taste more of her baked goods."

Emily smiled, uncomfortably, and turned around for the start of the presentation.

"Colleagues returning, colleagues new: I want to welcome you to the start of the 2019 school year. Let's have this be… the year of the Sharks," Boomed Principal Hackett, as the conference room erupted in feigned cheers at the cringeworthy jokes that would characterize the next hour or two.

\- **VIII -**

"Okay, news flash, sweets," Hanna walked into her bedroom, dressed in pajamas, sipping a banana split shake. "When The Bachelor is on, it means you're supposed to watch it."

Aria was lying on her side, facing the window, as she had been doing for the last three hours.

As if Hanna's remark had evaded her, Aria said: "I want you to take me to the police station later today."

Hanna sighed slightly, and looked around before sitting next to her friend on the bed.

"When do you want to go?"

Aria rolled to her side, now facing Hanna.

"When do the other girls get out?"

Hanna lay down.

"Let's see… Ali and Em will be out by three. Spencer said something about four."

"Take me at four. I want as much time to pass as possible."

Hanna's phone pinged.

Hanna, I want to see you. Will you meet me? 4 PM. Grille.

\- Mona

Hanna looked up from her phone.

"Aria?"

"What?"

"I have to pick Lindy up from extended daycare. Caleb got called in. I'll be here for the rest of the day though. I'll ask Emily or Ali to give you a ride. I'm sorry."

"I don't mean to impose more than I already—"

"Shut up and watch the Bachelor with me," Hanna cut her off, extending her hand, which Aria reluctantly accepted, as she hoisted herself up and made her way downstairs, not hearing the Everest-sized gulp in Hanna's throat.

 **\- IX -**

Emily sat under the shade at the ancient high school entrance's oak tree under which she'd spent her high school years reading a book when she just needed to get away. She was conflicted. She was still angry with Alison, but knew that holding onto it wasn't viable. So, she waited.

"Emily?"

Emily turned to the side to see one of the many people she'd been trying to avoid. Paige stood, hands on her hips, hazel brown eyes, a radiant smile illuminated by the sunlight.

"Paige?"

"How have you been?"

Emily looked away, a tiny smile creeping across her face. "If you want a recap of the last three years, let's get our blankets and mittens, because we'll be here till next Christmas."

Paige chuckled, and nodded, acknowledging her question was difficult to answer.

Emily started. "I didn't expect to see you back."

Paige looked to the side.

"Yeah… my parents moved back. California wasn't for them. And, uh… my wife's in Philly."

Emily looked at Paige, and then at her hand, on which a simple, minimalistic ring had claimed possession of her ring finger. If there was something Paige wasn't, it was extravagant.

"Oh my God! Congratulations!" She paused awkwardly. "I'm probably a year overdue."

"No actually, just a couple weeks."

There was silence. The two looked at each other, smiling.

Emily resumed the dialog. "So are you coaching?"

Paige sat down. "No, I'm actually teaching sports med and bio. I'm also the head of the Athletic Department again. I guess that title just follows me everywhere."

Emily laughed. "I'll be happy to work under you."

They both started talking at once, and laughed, nervously. Paige motioned for Emily to continue.

"We'll have to catch up."

"Yeah. Yeah, we will."

A red Nissan Leaf pulled into the parking lot, and the horn sounded.

"Meg's here. You'll have to meet her too, sometime. I'll see you tomorrow." Paige rose from the bench, got in the passenger side door next to a bespectacled woman with strawberry blonde hair. The two kissed lightly, and pulled out.

"Well. That was a surprise."

Emily turned to the side again, this time to see Alison, whose blue eyes were intently following the red car that had just pulled out.

Emily nodded. For the second time that day, the two started talking at once.

Alison signaled Emily to keep talking.

"I'm sorry, Ali. For the way I blew up earlier. I didn't mean to say you didn't care about me or Aria. I'm just having a hard time adjusting. I know that if you were gone I wouldn't want you to exert yourself either. But I hope you understand that… that I just want things to be normal again."

Alison set her hand on Emily's shoulder.

"Of course I do."

They smiled at each other, pleasantly.

"C'mon. The twins are waiting for us. You know what happens when Lily doesn't get her post-school, pre-dinner snack. Oh, and… we're taking Aria to the police station at 4."

"Got it."

Emily took Alison's hand, and the two walked off to their car.

From the stairway, hidden by bushes next to where Alison and Emily had been a moment earlier, the red tip of a long white cane emerged, as Jenna inched down the steps, alone, her long dark hair blowing in the breeze behind her.

 **\- X -**

The door-chimes sounded as Hanna entered the Grille at 3:46 PM. She looked around. Mona was not there. Classic.

She grabbed a booth. Until 4:10, she sat, poking her Greek salad, as uninspired as could be.

"Well, if it isn't Hanna Marin? Or should I say, Mrs. Rivers?" A fashionably late voice made its presence known, as none other than Mona Vanderwaal slid into the window booth, and sat herself across from her.

"Mona. Hi," Hanna said, visibly startled.

"Okay, please, do not tell me that's Forever 21, because I so did not bring my cowbell," a smirking Mona instigated, ignoring the waitress as she slid her a menu.

Hanna scoffed lightly, looking in the other direction.

"Well, how are you, girly girl?"

"I've been fine as ever," replied Hanna, coolly.

"O, M, G, I know the feeling," Mona continued, sipping her unsweetened black tea, not breaking eye contact with her high school-best friend.

Suddenly Hanna broke the ice. Unceremoniously.

"Mona, stop. Why are you here?"

Mona went from playful to serious, as she looked around her, as if she were being watched.

"Hanna, I came to make things right. I… I don't think I ever actually apologized to you for the damage I inflicted, even when I tried making up for it."

Hanna shook her head.

"I would have forgiven you, Mona."

Mona looked at her sharply. "Well, how should I have known? It seemed like you and your posse used me like room service, and when I tried taking the step forward, tried making things genuine, nobody was interested. I… I needed to get away, Hanna," Mona looked outside, and then down at the table for the first time. "At least that's how it all started."

Pause.

"What do you mean, that's how it all started?" Hanna pressed.

Mona looked up.

"I wasn't in Paris to stroll along the Seine and get classy at the Louvre, Hanna." Mona looked down at the table again, wringing her hands. "I was sick. I had a relapse, hallucinations and everything. I knew I couldn't be in Rosewood."

"Then why Paris?"

Pause. Mona looked back up.

"Because I was looking for closure."

 **\- XI -**

Caleb sat in the drivers' seat in one of two cars outside the Grille, shaking his head. Sour disappointment was written all over his face, as he rested his head on his hand, leaning on the windowsill of the car.

"I knew she was hiding something from me. I guess I was just optimistic, and didn't expect it to be something this colossal."

The man in the passengers' seat spoke up.

"Well, you know Mona. She has a way of turning everyone against everyone over something as small as black tea and Greek salad."

Caleb turned towards the man in the passenger seat of his car.

"Thanks for coming with me, Lucas. I don't want to drag you back into this."

"Don't thank me. I just want you and Hanna to be happy. And if I have to get my hands dirty to do that, I will."

 **\- XII -**

Emily, Alison, and Aria briskly walked into the police station, their expressions focused on the desk they'd apprehended earlier.

Aria, unrestrained, bolted forward towards Officer Maple.

Officer Maple looked annoyed more than he did compassionate.

"You can't see him yet. Does it seem like 72 hours have passed to you?"

Just as Aria was about to retort with a fiery remark, Spencer made a dramatic entrance, running up to the group.

"Does Ezra have an attorney yet?"

Maple smiled falsely. "Not my problem."

Spencer wasn't taking crap. She smiled even more falsely, before lashing back with: "Well, then. Make yourself useful and find that out instead of wasting our time, would you? The donut can wait."

Maple looked at her, then down at his lap, before getting up to investigate.

Spencer turned to Alison.

"Ali, did you get my message?"

"I saw you left a voicemail but I couldn't check in time, what is it?"

Spencer looked at Emily, and then at Aria, who looked like she was about to asphyxiate again.

"Emily, stay with Aria. Alison, come outside with me. Now."

 **\- XIII -**

The other car outside of the Grille, where Mona and Hanna were still dining, had tinted windows. In it, a balding middle aged man sat in the drivers' seat, doodling on a sketchpad. His phone rang.

"Yup?"

"Yeah. She's here alright. She's with that blonde girl you showed me. It looks like their conversation just got intense."

"No, she's not in range. Though I could order a pie if you want me to…"

"Uhhuh. Well, also, I guess I should tell you…" he continued, glancing at the car across from him, where Lucas and Caleb were still fixated on Hanna and Mona.

"It doesn't look like I'm the only one tailin' er."

 **\- XIV -**

Spencer tugged Alison outside the precinct by the arm, onto the staircase leading up to the station. It was 6:18 PM. The sun had already set.

"Spencer, what happened?"

Spencer stopped. She was facing Alison.

"Ali, have you been to the Lost Woods recently?"

Alison bit her underlip. "What frame of time are you referring to?"

"Since Mary gave it to us. No, actually…" Spencer broke eye contact, looking to the side, discomfort and a twinge of suppressed hurt apparent on her face. "Since my sister was arrested."

Alison thought for a second. "No. No, why Spence, what's going on?"

"I got my bills today. I'm being charged for at least a few years' worth of overdue utility. The bill is massive. Water, electricity, energy, internet, soforth. I looked on my web portal. The most recent expenditure calling for imbursement was dated last night."

Alison looked at Spencer with a blank expression. She didn't catch on. As was typical, Spencer's thoughts were traveling at a million miles an hour, her mouth only trailing slightly behind.

"Alison, someone's been using the Lost Woods as their lair."

 **\- FINIS -**

The cell Ezra was staying in was bleak, and his attempts to get a pen and paper from the guards so he could let his thoughts out were fruitless. He occupied himself by maneuvering the rod attached to the bedpost to carve images into the wall. It was the next best thing.

"You have a visitor."

A tall, looming guard, with disdain scrawled over his bearded face, opened the door, cuffing Ezra.

"Is there someone here to see me? It hasn't been 72 hours yet."

The guard scoffed, annoyed.

"Not my area of expertise, buddy."

The guard pushed Ezra's head into the too-small visiting room door, and sat him down. Across from him sat a hooded figure. In front of the hooded figure, a photograph of a smiling, doting couple that had been maliciously ripped in half.

Ezra swallowed back a frightened gulp, and then composed himself, reminding himself that nothing could happen to him right at that minute. He spoke.

"How in the hell did you get past?"

Then, in a harsher tone:

"Is this what you call payment?"


	4. Chapter 4

**\- I -**

It was 7:45 AM on Wednesday. 68 hours had gone by since Ezra's arrest, and the tension in the Montgomery house overshot the roof.

Spencer was in Aria's old bedroom with the four girls. Emily, Aria, and Alison were sitting on Aria's queen-sized bed. Aria rocked herself back and forth between them, her expression indicating that she was in another world. Hanna stood, anxiously wringing her hands in front of the dresser. Spencer shut the windows, and the doors.

"Talk," she commanded, brusquely, seating herself in a chair pulled up next to the bed.

Hanna sighed, pulling herself together. The girls had not appreciated Hanna keeping her rendezvous with Mona a secret.

"Mona's been back here for two days. She told me that she's been staying at her old house. She's moving back here for good, you guys."

"Why?" Spencer drilled. "Why didn't she just stay in Europe? Why now?"

Hanna leaned against the dresser, one foot against the drawers, one foot on the ground. "I think Mona was getting treatment for her sickness in Paris. She told me a lot, you guys. She was really sick after we got Alex."

At this, Spencer looked down.

"She was living in a fantasy. She had spent months recreating a freaky dollhouse in her basement apartment. It got to the point where she bought a couple dolls and kept them down there. Brought them food and everything. According to her, they were Alex and Mary, and she was their gatekeeper. This," Hanna continued. "This seemed very real for her. You guys, I think she even tried searching for Charlotte's lair while she was in Paris. I don't know why, but that's what she said. And the next thing she knew she was in a hospital overlooking the Seine. She had long conversations with shrinks and doctors about confronting her fears and how that would get her better, so… so she moved back."

"Timely recovery," remarked Spencer.

"Did she have an explanation? About Ezra?" Alison asked.

Hanna scoffed. "No, Alison, what, was I supposed to just ask her, why did you get Ezra arrested?"

Emily shot her a you're-being-insensitive look.

Hanna resumed. "My point is, I don't know if Mona's the one screwing with us right now. You guys, we don't even know if we're being screwed with at all."

Spencer had chimed back in. "Yeah, we do."

Alison glanced at her.

"Someone's been using the Lost Woods as their den. My guess is that Mona's sipping tea and exchanging biscuits with Creepy Harold as we speak."

Emily corrected her, pointedly. "What Spencer means is that this isn't a coincidence. That there's someone out to get us again. Now whether it's Mona or not is what we need to find out next. To help Aria." Emily put her hand on Aria's back, rubbing it.

Spencer glared. She hated having people paraphrase her.

"Alison and I are going to check the Lost Woods out this evening after we get out. You guys stay put."

Spencer opened the door to Aria's bedroom, and stopped just as she was about to stampede down the stairs.

"You guys."

Alison, Hanna, and Emily, who was holding Aria by the arm stopped behind her.

Under the stairwell were Mike and Mona, holding hands. The girls could see them, but they couldn't see the girls. Fortunately. Mike let go of Mona's arm.

"Aria?" He called out.

Aria peeled herself from Emily's side.

The girls watched, exchanging glances, as Aria, face glistening with dried tears, walked towards the top of the stairs.

In a subdued, dejected tone, Aria asked, "What is this?"

Mike walked up to meet Aria at half-step.

"I am so sorry."

He reached out to embrace Aria. She didn't reciprocate the gesture. Tears started coming out of her eyes once more.

"Are you? Because if you were truly sorry, why did you bring her here, to this house? Why did you not come and find me earlier, when I needed my little brother the most?"

Mike couldn't believe his ears. Mona looked to the side.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Mona started. Then to Aria, "I'm sorry, look, Aria, I tried convincing—"

"Don't. Don't you speak for my brother. Don't you speak at all."

The girls couldn't tell whether Aria wanted to pounce at Mona from the stairtop or hurl knives at Mona with her eyes.

Mona looked stunned now too.

Mike turned towards her.

"She isn't thinking levelly right now," he said, turning back to Aria. "I'm really sorry Aria, that this is happening to you right now, but do you hear yourself? You are so out of line," He placed his hand on Mona's shoulder, herding her out, as she glanced curiously back at Aria, as if she were a zoo animal in its natural habitat.

The other girls had no words. Aria pushed past them, into her bedroom, and closed the door.

 **\- II -**

Neither Emily nor Alison taught class Wednesday mornings. It was their prep period. But today, they had scheduled a special appointment.

"Emily, when we're there, try getting rid of everything that's been happening the last couple of days. You need a clear mind when you talk to her."

Emily nodded, absently staring out of the passengers' window. The rain looked like it was debating whether to pour or whether to not pour.

"Seriously, Emily."

"I know, Ali."

Alison parked. They both got out. Alison extended her hand, which Emily accepted. They climbed the stairwell. The all-too-familiar door they were entering was ajar.

Dr. Sullivan rose from her armchair.

"Emily. Alison. It's so nice to see you both again after all this time."

They embraced the woman who had helped them through so much, for so many years.

Pam Fields sat opposite Dr. Sullivan. She reclined on an adjacent armchair.

"Hi, girls. I'm so glad that this worked out."

Emily and Alison sat on the sofa opposite Pam and Dr. Sullivan. Alison's hand stroked Emily's.

Dr. Sullivan smiled.

"Well, my. Where should we start?"

 **\- III -**

Hanna barged into the Hastings campaign headquarters. She had spent the night at Aria's already. Now she needed the office to herself when she knew Caleb wasn't around. Avoiding him had been hurting her like nothing had in a long time.

"Hanna?"

Hanna wheeled around, doing a double take, mid-suck on a lollipop she had taken from the jar on Melissa's desk.

"Lucas! Hi," she said, grimacing, and tossing the lollipop in the trash. She didn't need it.

"What brings you here this early?" Lucas asked, widely grinning, walking towards her.

Hanna paused nervously. "Oh, you know. Sometimes the quiet's nice."

Lucas scoffed. "And I've been hired to code Superstar Saga. That's bullshit."

Hanna looked down. She was caught. "Yeah… yeah, I guess it is."

Before the conversation could continue, he addressed the elephant in the room.

"You and Caleb are at it again, aren't you?"

"What makes you think that?" Hanna asked defensively.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. No response needed.

"Yeah. I just… I've been keeping something from him and I know he won't take it well when he finds out."

Lucas stopped the sarcasm. He walked further toward Hanna, and spoke in a moderate-low volume.

"Let me help. Stay away from Mona. She's out of control, and you can't trust her."

Hanna was taken aback. This wasn't intuition he was on.

"How do you know about Mona?"

Lucas looked around, as if Mona herself were lurking behind the copy machine.

"Don't question it. But you can't confide in her. She's volatile. Unpredictable."

"Wait… wait, Lucas, has she… has she reached out to you at all over the last two, three years?"

"I can't talk about this here, Hanna. Maybe somewhere outside work, but not now. Just… for your and Caleb's sake, keep things to a bare minimum with her. She's not who she says she is. Never has been."

Lucas gave Hanna a meaningful glance, and walked past her, carrying a cartload of boxes. Hanna stood in the office by herself now.

 **\- IV -**

Spencer had just changed the hay in Bashful's stable, and was curled up in a blanket on the couch, watching How to Get Away With Murder on Netflix. She prided herself over the fact that it wasn't as trashy as Hanna's shows, but knew deep down, that a binge session was just that, a binge session. Designed to distract her and guard her from the thoughts that had been haunting her.

The door to the barn opened. As if Spencer had been caught gambling, she shut her laptop. Enter Melissa, with a shopping bag.

"Oh. I would've thought you'd left already."

Spencer shook her head, taking a well-deserved sip of coffee.

"I don't start till 11 today."

Melissa nodded.

"And you?" Spencer asked, getting up off the couch. "Why aren't you over at campaign headquarters?"

"Mom's still in Huntingdon for the next two days, I don't have a budget to compose." Melissa cracked open the champagne bottle in the mini-fridge.

"Isn't it a wee bit early for that?" Spencer asked.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "I had a long night."

"Why?"

"Don't ask."

Spencer was working up the courage. She wanted to find out who Melissa had been so heated with over the phone two mornings ago.

"Hey, Melissa…"

"Hmm?"

"Who was that on the phone a few days ago?"

Melissa turned to look at Spencer. For a second, it looked like she'd been caught. Then, she came back to it.

"Spence, I work a 9-5 cubicle job. The phone's plastered to my ear. You'll have to be more specific."

"You were yelling at someone outside the house two days ago. It looked pretty intense."

Melissa shrugged as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. "I do that sometimes. It's why I scored top in debate and mock trial junior _and_ senior year."

Before Spencer could call her bluff, she cut her off.

"I'm meeting someone for brunch. I'll see you later?" In a singsong voice, she added, "It's puzzle night!"

All Spencer could reply with was a whispered, "Yeah," and an awkward smile.

"I'm looking forward to it!" Melissa responded, simpering, swinging her purse over her shoulder, and shutting the barn door behind her.

Spencer had twenty minutes to get ready. But first, she had a call to make.

Voicemail.

"Hi, Toby. I'll explain this later, but I need you to follow Melissa. At least for a bit. Something's up. Thanks, Toby. Love you."

 **\- V -**

Group therapy had been a dud. Emily could not focus for the life of her. She knew Alison's intentions were benevolent, but having her hand stroke and squeeze hers when Emily zoned out was uncomfortable. Pam's eyes drilling into her skull one minute, and looking like an emotionally perturbed puppy the next didn't help either. The whole experience had left her uneasy. She was grateful that Dr. Sullivan had scheduled an independent session the next week.

Emily was as enervated as ever. The junior varsity group was much more terrible than Alison had mentioned. Her patience was beyond worn thin. She didn't know if she could handle it.

"You bitch! You aren't even doing it right!" screamed one girl, towel-whipping her teammate in the back.

"Looks like the new coach hates us," said another to her teammate, sneering viciously.

Other girls were giggling, Snapchatting, underscoring the softness of Emily's usual demeanor in a way that didn't favor her.

Emily rubbed her temples. Her head ached. She was low on sleep, but had to maintain composure at all costs. If she didn't, she knew it would be a colossal problem, and that her authority would be permanently derailed.

It was to no avail. She felt tears of desperation begin to sprout. The girl who had been sneering burst out into laughter, turning away from Emily so she couldn't see her face.

Tap, tap, tap.

It was as if the temperature of the room had decayed at an exponential rate. The draft of the open window felt stronger. Every girl stopped talking. They started exchanging nervous oh-crap glances, as they lined themselves up in the position Emily had demanded six minutes prior. Emily looked up, stopping rubbing her temples, and felt her blood turn to ice as well.

"I may not be a coach, but I know that if you don't _get_ your act together, you won't amount to anything," an ice cold voice spoke from the door of the girls' locker room.

Jenna stood in the entryway of the darkened locker room, her hands folded nonchalantly over her cane. Her tightly pressed mouth spoke volumes about her strength and resolve.

Emily gulped. The tears in her eye had gone.

Then, one of the worst girls, Isabelle erupted in laugher, either out of nerves or disrespect. A fatal mistake.

Jenna lifted her head.

"Isabelle? Is that you?"

Isabelle looked down, at this point intimidated, but it was as if Jenna had seen her. Jenna tapped her way to the rim of the pool, exactly where Isabelle stood. She knelt, getting in her face, her sunglasses reflecting the daylight from above.

"Listen to me. You will do exactly as Coach Fields tells you. If I have to come back here again because you're interrupting my class, your ass gets nailed to the bench," she hissed out. "Do you understand?"

As if nothing had transpired, and before Emily had any chance to say anything, Jenna wheeled around, tapping her way out of the girls' locker room, and back to her classroom.

If Jenna's intention was to frighten Emily as well as the girls, she had succeeded.

But she had regained her composure. And her power.

"Ten laps. The first ten of you. Two per lane. Opposite sides. Now. If you slow down or so much as look at someone else on the team, it's double that." Emily barked, the force of her own voice surprising her.

The first ten started swimming. Emily didn't need to say any more. The rest of the girls lined up behind the pool, troop-style.

Triumphantly, Emily looked around, and leaned on the bleacher railing, taking notes of everything that occurred on the clipboard.

 **\- VI -**

By noon, Aria had gotten her strength together. Her husband had been incarcerated for 72 hours. There was nothing anyone could say to turn her away from saying anything.

It was time to talk.

With strength she didn't know she possessed, she pulled herself out of bed. She took a shower, changed, and grabbed her purse from the closet of her old bedroom.

Her expression had changed. She hadn't been crying or screaming, and to anyone who didn't know her, she'd look stoic.

She made herself an afternoon coffee, and leaned against the counter. She was thinking about everything she'd tell him when she saw him again. She ran her hand through her bob.

"Honey? Where are you off to?" Ella briskly walked into the kitchen after seeing her daughter for the first time all afternoon.

Aria didn't so much as glance at her mother.

"I'm going to see Ezra. Time's up," she said, pouring the steaming coffee into the thermos next to her.

"Honey, do you want me to drive you? I don't want you to—"

"I'm fine, Mom."

Her words were harsh and bitter. Ella looked stunned.

"I know they don't allow cells in prison, so call me when you get there, please."

Aria still hadn't acknowledged Ella with her eyes.

"Yeah, I'll tell you," she said, grabbing her purse off the counter, and barging past her distraught mother.

She opened the door, not bothering to lock it. She almost stumbled, when she saw Mike, sitting with a pained expression on the porch swingchair. He had been thinking for a long time.

"Mike," she started, tense.

Before she could move on, he cut her off.

"I was an idiot. I shouldn't have brought her here this morning. It was selfish. I wasn't thinking about you. And Aria, I'm sorry. Really."

Aria's expression relaxed for a second, before tensing again.

"It's fine, Mike. I know you didn't mean to incense me. Thanks for coming."

Mike looked at her. He saw how distant she was being.

"Do you… do you need a ride?" He asked, as Aria made her way down the porch stairs.

She wheeled around.

"No. Thank you."

Aria turned back around, and got into her car, speeding off, leaving Mike in the dust.

 **\- VII -**

A couple of blocks from the Hastings headquarters, Mona sat in her dark blue parked Honda Odyssey. She was tapping her steering wheel apprehensively, and glancing up and down from her phone screen.

A pair of knuckles rapped against the passengers' side window. Mona gasped, and then turned to see a scowling Hanna.

"Knock knock."

Mona rolled the window down.

"Long time no see," she started.

"Did you seriously think that was a smart move? Going to Aria's this morning?" Hanna was direct.

Mona looked away.

"Mona, I may see you differently, but that doesn't go for the rest of the girls."

Hanna got into Mona's face.

"Ezra was arrested, Mona. It's not time to dance under the rainbow and eat lucky charms."

Mona looked back up, anxiously drawing her breath in.

"Hanna. I had nothing to do with it, what I—"

"Mona, stop explaining yourself to me!" Hanna turned around, knowing she'd raised her voice. She continued. "I don't know what to believe, I just know that I'm not as quick to point the finger as the other girls."

"I'm trying to find out who's behind this," Mona blurted out, gulping.

Hanna looked at her incredulously.

"Well, don't. It's not good for you to get involved in this. You shouldn't interact with the others. In fact, they shouldn't see me interacting with you. It's for the best, okay?" Her tone softened a touch. "It's going to take time. Please, Mona, just don't get your hands dirty again."

"Hanna, I—"

Before Mona could continue, Hanna had pushed back from the car, and was walking briskly down the sidewalk away from her.

 **\- VIII -**

A car parked two spots behind Mona's pulled out, as the man in the front seat unwrapped a sandwich, jotting bullet points into an old, yellowed notebook.

Even private investigators had lunch breaks.

 **\- IX -**

"Crud," muttered Toby, pushing down on his car's brakes. The metal guardhouse became visible, as did the line of vehicles he was stuck in. He had been following Melissa for the last forty minutes, and she had led him to a grungy part of Philadelphia he was not familiar with.

He pulled his backpack out from under the passenger seat, taking out his ID.

It took at least two minutes per car to move up.

Eight minutes later, Melissa's wine red Ford, fortunately the one right in front of him, was up.

Melissa extended her arm, passing the guard what presumably was her drivers' license. Toby craned his neck. "Crap," he muttered again, as he saw Melissa extend another piece of paper to the guard. What was it?

In any case, he knew he didn't have it.

The guard waved her on. Melissa pulled forward.

Toby rolled his window down. A muscular guard extended his arm. "ID and approved visitation sheet."

"Approved visitation sheet…?" Toby muttered, confused.

Suddenly, the guard looked annoyed.

"This isn't a zoo, kid. If you weren't approved to come here in advance, you aren't entering. Take a U and get out."

Toby closed his window. Shoot. Just then, the large, imposing sign in front of him caught his eye.

"Riverside Correctional Facility…?" He read out loud, to himself.

It hit him.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Spence, I found out where Melissa's headed. It looks like your sister's visiting someone at the Riverside jail," he spoke. Then, he paused. His brow furrowed. "It's your turn. You have explaining to do."

 **\- X -**

Aria had endured a patdown. She hated her personal space being invaded more than anything else, but would endure it for the cause. The receptionist had taken her earrings, phone, and purse.

Aria walked into the visitation room, and sat at a table for two on the far side of the room. She wondered how long it would take for him to get here.

A guard with a face of disdain entered the room, shoving Ezra's head into the small door first. Aria got up instantly.

Ezra turned to face her, his eyes wide.

"Aria!"

Aria bolted towards him. Like a viper, the guard, who had been behind Ezra until then, placed himself between them.

"Absolutely not. Physical contact not permitted. Sit yourselves down," he snarled, shoving Ezra, who was cuffed, forward.

They took their seats across from each other, yearning for each others' hands and comfort.

Aria had appeared emotionless all day, but in front of her husband, clad in an orange jumpsuit, and looking despondent, though he'd never admit to it, she faltered. Aria burst out sobbing. The families of other inmates turned around, visibly annoyed.

"This is my fault. That you're in here, everything's my fault," she managed to choke out between gasps and tears.

"No. Don't you ever, ever say that."

"Ezra, don't try to comfort me, because it's not going to work. Not this time." Aria was resolutely inconsolable.

Ezra looked around himself.

Then, he leaned as close to Aria as he could without touching her.

"Aria. This does not change what's ours."

Aria looked up. She had to compose herself. It wasn't right for her husband to see her in this state.

"We _will_ move on. This _will_ be made right. You just need to be strong. Which you are."

Ezra resisted the tug of tears in his eyes. If his wife saw him lose his composure, she'd respond the same way, but amplified.

Aria shook her head. "I'm going to tell them I wanted it. That it was consensual."

Ezra scoffed, looking to the side. "You will do nothing of the sort. Aria, if you did that, you and I both know you'd get sent home with a pat on the head and an ice cream sandwich telling you that it's okay to be a victim."

"Ezra, you don't understand. I don't know how to make this right."

"Aria," he said, almost laughing. He leaned back. "Compared to everything that you endured," he said, lifting his cuffed hands, "This is nothing."

Aria shook her head again. She had no reply. The thoughts blurred her mind.

"I do have one request though."

She looked up, in his eyes.

"I want you to keep writing. Write about this. And next time you come here, I want you to show me. Writing, Aria," he continued, leaning back towards her. "Is what pulled me out of my darkest times. It's not just what stocks my fridge and pays my mortgage. It forces you up, wakes you up, transforms your outlook. Sometimes it even wakes people up to the injustices they committed."

Aria kept her eye contact with him.

"And Aria, maybe we won't have the future we imagined. But think about it. Your senior year, _that_ is the last thing you'd imagine would come to fruition," he said, gesturing to the engagement ring perched on her hand. "And honestly, I didn't imagine it either. But, it's beautiful."

Aria looked down at her hand.

A mournful smile crept across her face.

"Maybe it's a sign. That they didn't take it when I came in here. Maybe things will work out."

"You bet they will."

They smiled at each other dolefully.

"Aria, don't let them reclaim what belongs to us. What always will."

 **\- XI -**

It was 3:20 PM. Emily was on break. She had managed to spend the rest of junior varsity practice on top of things. She took a swig of her smoothie, and read the magazine in the teachers' lounge. It was great to spend the last ten minutes alone.

The door opened.

"Emily, again?"

"Paige!" She grinned, putting her magazine down.

"Great minds think alike, I guess," Paige continued. She took a wrap and water out of her backpack, and sat herself at the otherwise unoccupied table across from Emily.

"So? How was Day Two?"

"It's over. That's how it is," Emily said, chuckling.

Paige leaned towards her.

"Junior varsity's a bitch," she whispered.

Emily looked down, still smiling.

"That it is."

"But, it looks like you had a guardian angel," Paige continued, leaning back and taking a gulp of her water.

The smile on Emily's face lessened a bit. "Yeah… you could say that."

"Jenna even scared me. She… she's a force to be reckoned with."

"Was the team even that disruptive?"

"Emily, I was in a PTA meeting and we had to close the double windows and the door. Now imagine how loud it was for the neighboring classrooms."

"I guess I should assert myself better."

"Yeah. I had to learn that too at Iowa State."

Silence. They took swigs of their respective drinks.

"You did pretty well at the end. I saw you take charge. And…" Paige continued. "If they do get to be too much, all you have to do is knock at my office. I may not be Jenna, but I did scare that bear off that summer at Stanford…"

Emily burst out laughing, remembering that summer.

From outside of the lounge, Alison looked into the windows. Emily and Paige were laughing, and breaking together, alone. Alison drew in her breath as if she'd been punched. She turned, walking briskly, and seized with sudden anger, kicked down a lone recycling bin, as old receipts and papers blew into the breeze. She didn't bother picking it up.

 **\- XII -**

Spencer sat outside of her old high school in her blue BMW, fingers drumming on the dashboard. She still had to return Toby's calls, and knew that he wouldn't stop until she explained everything. It was 4:00 PM, getting winter dark, and windy. Fall leaves would pelt her windshield if she didn't leave soon.

As if on cue, the passenger door opened and Alison hustled in.

"Hi, I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

Spencer shook her head. "You didn't. Is Emily coming?"

Alison turned to look back at the school. "No. I need a break from her right now."

Spencer looked at Alison curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just…" Alison sighed. "I think I'm losing her, and Paige is back. After three frigging years. I mean we were already not at a great place, but that's just going to get worse."

Spencer was surprised to hear of Paige's return.

"I didn't expect to hear that."

Alison chuckled mirthlessly.

"Emily loves you, Ali. You're the sun to her moon. You always have been. Paige or no Paige, that's not going to change."

Alison nodded. "That's what I like to tell myself." She sighed. "Can we not get deep? It's getting dark and we should get to the resort before it gets creepy."

Spencer scoffed. "You say that like it isn't to start with," she replied, buckling herself and pulling out of the parking lot.

 **\- XIII -**

Ezra nodded in acknowledgment of the fellow inmate who had handed him the communal phone.

He sighed deeply, before punching in the number and waiting.

"I'll continue doing everything you're asking me to do."

He looked around.

"Under one condition."

 **\- XIII -**

The black car following the blue Honda Odyssey came to a stop.

The man in the front seat pulled out his phone.

"Yup. She's goin' in. I can't follow her, you gotta have a pass or somethin'."

"Yeah. I'll wait for her to leave then. Sorry I can't help you with that one."

 **\- XIV -**

"Were you ever going to tell me about this?"

Caleb stood, hands on hips, at the door to their shared bedroom. He had made sure Lindy was with Ashley so that he could confront his wife while sparing his daughter the stress of her fighting parents.

Hanna whipped around.

"I don't know. I guess, eventually. I just didn't want you finding out like this."

"Then how did you want me to find out?"

Hanna got defensive. "You know Caleb, if you realized I was hiding something from you, you could've just asked. You didn't need to recruit Lucas and go spy on me. I thought we were past all that."

Caleb scoffed. "Are we?"

"Caleb, Mona being here does not change anything. She doesn't have the Holy Drail, okay? She's just a person."

"Grail, Hanna. She's a person who's spent at the very least a year and a half making our lives hell, and I'm willing to bet more."

"Look Caleb, Mona went to Paris for treatment. She was sick. She isn't anymore."

Caleb walked into the bedroom.

"Who's to say Mona isn't the reason Aria inhaled a tub of chunky monkey last night?" He was angry. "Hanna, we have a life. A daughter. Jobs. I am not going to frolic and let Mona cannonball back in and jeopardize everything we've worked to earn."

"Caleb—"

"No, Hanna."

Caleb grabbed his phone.

"This is enough. She doesn't even have to be here in Rosewood to force you to keep secrets from me. If she's up to something, no matter what it is, I don't want you anywhere near her."

Now Hanna had had enough.

"Listen to me, Caleb. I know how to protect myself, so why don't you just let me do my job? And if you think that finding Mona and confronting her, or scaring her into going back to Europe is an effective way to get rid of her, I can't tell you how wrong you are."

"I can't believe this is a discussion we're having right now. Hanna, some people are toxic. That's all there is to it. She is poisonous, she is dangerous, and until you realize that, I need to step away from this."

Caleb absently grabbed a pair of clothes from the closet.

"I'm spending the night at a bud's. I'll be back later."

"No, Caleb—"

"I'm done with this, Hanna."

Before she could stop him, Caleb grabbed a duffel bag, and marched down the stairs. He entered his car, and sped off.

"Honey?"

Ashley leaned on the doorframe. Her expression was one of concern only a mother could have.

Hanna turned to her. Tears forming in her eyes, she ran to embrace her.

"Mom…"

 **\- XV -**

Spencer's blue BMW pulled to a stop at the abandoned, remote Lost Woods resort, an hour away from town, at 4:51 PM. The sun had already set. She pulled out the key.

She and Alison exited the car, looking around as if they'd never been there before.

"That neon sign's still flickering," Alison started. "We really should've revamped the place when Mary gave it to us."

"Yeah. I doubt that's what's been zilching the energy."

"If someone were staying here, how could they deal with the utility being shut off, if they didn't pay?" Alison asked.

"If someone is staying here, Ali, it's because they have their own generator. Or they found a way to bypass the disconnection. But I don't know how I'm getting charged."

Silence. All that could be heard was a nightbird and the crunching of their own footsteps.

Alison broke the eery quiet.

"I really haven't been here in years. Where's the entrance again?"

"We'll get there in three minutes, thirty-to-forty seconds. It's 122 steps eastward, because you can see that it's towards the opposite direction of where the sun is setting, and then you have to take a circa sixty degree turn counterclockwise to—"

"Spencer. Cut the Velma act."

"Well… how else am I supposed to navigate when I can't see?"

Alison gave her a pointed look. Spencer shrugged.

"We're here."

The door was propped open with a rock. As they got closer, they could see the cobwebs wedged between the hinges. They avoided looking at the animal heads adorning the walls, and almost tripped over the armchairs with stuffing falling out, and rickety coffee table of the lobby. Spencer rotated her flashlight around until she found a switch. She flicked it, and the place was illuminated.

"I did not expect that to work," commented Alison.

"Okay, so A rented Room 1." Spencer was thinking out loud. "The hall's straight down from the concierge desk. There," she gestured.

"It's Room 1."

The girls stood in front of the door.

"Are you ready for this?"

Spencer and Alison exchanged an initial apprehensive glance.

"Let's get in there."

Spencer motioned for the doorknob. It was a heavy door, and took some substantial effort to open.

"Oh my God…"

The room was lit. It had mustard yellow, peeling walls. A picture of a lighthouse swayed in the wind. There was a single window, open. The wooden railing was moldy due to years of it being open and enduring the worst of storms. The wall facing Room 2 still had an eye-sized hole drilled into it for spying. The room itself was stark empty, except—

"It's a shrine to Charlotte."

Right in the center of their field of view was a delicately coordinated ensemble of photographs of a smiling, youthful and ethereal Charlotte DiLaurentis. She was angelic, donning a white dress, her hair elegantly braided. No one would've guessed the atrocities she was capable of committing. In some pictures, she was outside. In others, she was indoors. The photographs had candles in front of them, and a box of matches was on the far side. On either side of the shrine were two violet and magenta potted plants. They were freshly watered. Perched in the middle of the shrine was a palm-sized porcelain doll.

"Charlotte loved azaleas," Alison remarked, scooping up a photograph of her cousin.

"You can tell some of these frames were whittled by hand."

"Someone really wants to bring her back." Alison was mournful. Spencer looked helpless for a minute.

"I think this is it. Alison, A is back."

Thunder struck the very second it began to rain.

"Let's get out of here." Alison tugged on Spencer's sleeve, anxious to leave.

Spencer didn't react, staring at the shrine.

"Spencer!"

"Yeah, sorry," Spencer rushed out, as she and Alison rushed out into the night for the safe cover of Spencer's car.

 **\- XVI -**

Alex loved the rain. It had been her stimulation for the duration of her incarceration, especially now, as her misery started becoming unbearable. When it happened, she bided her time counting the drops that struck the bars of her window, measuring the distance between them, and calculating the frequency at which they struck. Sometimes, when there was lightning, she'd calculate how far away it was from the penitentiary.

She had to keep her mind alive somehow. The voices in her head were killing her. And now that she knew she was doomed…

A female guard, tall and imposing, appeared at the entrance of her cell.

"You have a visitor, Drake."

Alex rose from the bed, expressionless, allowing herself to be cuffed. She was led to the visitation room. As she saw who had come to visit her, her mouth curled into a vile smirk for the first time in weeks.

The guard sat her down across from the petite brunette, and promptly made her way to the other side of the room.

"Well if it isn't Victoriousa Maxima," she remarked, smirking throughout, allowing her face to rest on her limp wrist as she sat.

Mona Vanderwaal sat across from her, folding her manicured hands. "And here we are, two and a half years later," Mona responded levelly, keeping her gaze locked. Alex would not intimidate her.

"What in the hell brings you here after such a dreadfully long, long time? I've been so lonely without you." Alex leaned forward menacingly, leering so that Mona could feel the warmth of her breath. "Did your straw man boyfriend finally realize what a batshit bitch you are?"

Mona retained her composure. If Alex's taunts got to her, it wasn't visible.

"Let's get down to the brass tacks, Alex."

Now it was Mona's turn to lean forward.

She whispered something unintelligible to Alex, leaning as close as possible to her without breaking the prison's regulations surrounding physical contact.

Alex turned pale. She gulped. Whatever Mona had said had struck a chord. Then a devious grin crept across her face as both women leaned back in their chairs.

 **\- FINIS -**

A gloved hand affectionately caressed a black-and-white photograph of Charlotte DiLaurentis before gently fitting it into a custom-made paper boat. The hand then took a candle, struck a match, and lit it, gingerly fitting it alongside the photograph. It repeated this for at least thirty minutes. Gently, the hand plucked the boats it had so lovingly crafted, and set them into motion downstream. The paper lanterns at the Lost Woods creekside would illuminate and shepherd their path to safety.

The figure watched the fleet of paper boats get smaller, smaller, and smaller as the flames of the candles started to look like retiring fireflies in the distance. Eventually, the figure could no longer see the paper boats or the flames. The figure's phone vibrated. The figure pulled it out, nonchalantly, as if it didn't have a care in the world. The six missed calls from the Riverside Correctional Facility elicited nothing but a cruel smirk. The phone was put back in the pocket. The figure raised a glass, toasting at nothing visible to the eye, before turning around, and disappearing into the woods.


	5. Chapter 5

**\- I -**

It was 7:30 AM. The girls were congregated in Aria's living room. Aria sat wedged between Alison and Hanna, looking drained, but more alive than she had the days before. Emily, whom Alison had been avoiding, sat opposite Spencer.

"First things first," started Alison. "When we went to the Lost Woods last night to see if there was someone staying there, there was a shrine to Charlotte right where A rented."

"Wait, shrines, like those things in Legend of Zelding? The ones that you pop to get to the next level?" Hanna interjected.

Alison looked at her cluelessly. Spencer scoffed. "It's Zelda, Hanna. And since when do you play Nintendo Switch?"

"Moving onward," Alison pressed pointedly, glaring at Spencer. "Someone wanted us to see it. Someone who wants to carry on Charlotte's game. And… and Alex's."

"But who? And why now?" asked Emily.

Spencer shook her head.

Alison nodded at Spencer. "There's more to all of this. We have to investigate."

"What do you propose?"

Alison stole a cautious look at each of the girls before continuing.

"I think you and I should go visit Mary."

Spencer looked down, discomfort obscuring her usual obstinate countenance.

"If anyone knows anything about someone who could have been shacking out in the Lost Woods, it's her."

Spencer kept her gaze on the floor.

"Spencer. Input?" Alison prodded impatiently.

"What? Yeah. You're right. When should we go?"

"I'll call out of my last two periods. They're mostly self-directed seniors anyway. Will you meet me in the lot again?"

Spencer nodded, her gaze in outer space.

Emily changed the subject.

"Has anyone seen Mona since yesterday?" Emily asked.

"Um… I saw her. Quickly in her car," Hanna responded.

"Did you talk?"

"No." Hanna gulped.

"Spencer, you mentioned last night that Melissa's up to something." Alison motioned for Spencer to elaborate.

"I never said she was up to anything," Spencer corrected, raking her hand through her hair impatiently. "Just that I had Toby follow her to the Riverside jail yesterday and that he's raising a huge stink because of it. And that she didn't come home last night and I don't know where she is."

"I second the raising a huge stink," remarked Hanna, looking to the side, mostly to herself, thinking about last night's fight.

"Well, did he follow her in? What was she doing?" Emily asked.

"You can't just walk into jail without a reason to be there, Emily."

"She was probably getting the board game manual from Alex," said Hanna, shaking her head.

"Okay, slow down." Spencer was vexed.

"No, Spencer. Melissa's always hated us."

"Look, I understand that Melissa isn't your guys' pal, but there's no reason she'd go after Ezra. It just doesn't make sense yet." Spencer muttered.

In a delicate motion, Emily walked up to Aria, putting a comforting hand on Aria's shoulder. Aria hadn't said anything at all.

"Aria? You went to visit Ezra yesterday, right?"

Aria looked up, snapping awake.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"How is he?" Asked Alison.

"He… he's stronger than I'd be."

Spencer glanced at Alison, and then Aria.

"Aria? Ezra's just on remand, so you can visit him three times a week. Are you going to visit him again?"

Slothlike, Aria moved her head to Spencer's direction.

"I'm visiting him this afternoon."

Spencer swallowed nervously before continuing. "I think you should ask Ezra if he knows anything about why he's there."

Emily shot Spencer a warning glare.

"Ezra could be keeping something from you. To protect you. I think A might have reached out to him first."

The girls nodded. Spencer's theory was plausible in its own right.

"So if you could just ask Ezra if… if anyone has said anything to him?"

A pang of silence.

"Yeah. Yeah, Spencer. I'll ask."

"Thanks."

Spencer smiled slightly and extended her hand, putting it on Aria's.

The girls followed in suit, their hands stacked.

"You guys _will_ get through this."

"I hope so," Aria responded, bleakly.

 **\- II -**

"Ali, wait," Emily caught up to Alison, who was walking briskly to their car parked onto the opposite side of Aria's house.

"Sorry."

Alison wouldn't make eye contact with her.

"Ali, what's going on? You're shutting me out."

Alison laughed humorlessly. "Now you know what it feels like. It sucks, doesn't it?"

Emily turned away as if Alison had slapped her, and got into the car like a dog with its tail between its legs.

To Emily's surprise, Alison reinitiated.

"Emily, why is Paige back?"

"Paige? Her parents are here. And… and so is her wife."

At the mention of Paige having a wife, Alison turned to look at hers.

"So, she's married?"

"Yeah. She is."

Alison turned her gaze back to the sprawling road ahead of her.

As if Emily had caught onto her wife's train of thought, she stated: "Paige is just a good friend and a colleague, Ali. She isn't anything more. She never will be. What we had was in the past."

No response.

"But I want you to move past whatever you had with her as well, Ali. She's a good person. At least try to keep it professional," Emily entreated, her eyes boring holes into Alison's skull.

The corners of Alison's mouth drooped.

"Yeah. Yeah, Em."

She looked at her wife, who was studying her. Emily extended her hand to touch Alison's.

"I'm sorry. I know it's pathetic that I'm groveling you for reassurance. After all this time, it shouldn't be this way."

"Don't be sorry. I've been in this situation before," Emily reassured her.

They pulled into the school parking lot just as the morning bell sounded off.

 **\- III -**

Caleb sat, head resting on his hands, arms resting on his legs, on the couch of Toby's studio apartment. Toby extended him a graciously prepared cup of coffee.

"Thanks."

Toby sat across from him.

"They're doing it again," he said. "Keeping things from us."

Caleb shook his head, lost in thought. "Since Ezra got arrested and Mona got back—"

"Wait, Mona's back? Since when?" Toby was shocked.

"Spencer didn't tell you?"

Toby shook his head.

"Who am I kidding, of course she didn't tell you." Caleb continued. "As I was saying, since Mona got back, Hanna's been off having secret meetings with her. And I can't shake the feeling that her return is not circumstantial. I mean, can you?"

Toby shook his head. "No."

Caleb looked at his friend. "You said 'they're' like Spencer's keeping something from you, too. What's going on?"

Toby sighed. "Yesterday, she had me follow Melissa. She didn't tell me why. Just that I followed her to the jail over in Riverside and was turned away. And now," he said, picking up his phone, "She won't call me back."

"Why would Melissa be taking country rides to prison?"

"Beats me. All I know is," Toby said, getting up and putting on his coat. "Is that I'm off to Spencer's."

"I think I'll stay here if it's cool with you."

Toby nodded. "Stay as long as you need, man. Fridge's all yours."

With that, he closed the door, and walked down the apartment stairway to his car.

 **\- IV -**

Aria lay on her bed, pen in hand, journal on blanket.

As she did when she was nervous, she bit her nails.

What would she write? It had been too long since she'd entered that frame of mind.

She thought. Thought about how angry she was. About how whenever happiness seemed to meander her way, that it was taken from her by some unstoppable outside force. That her husband didn't deserve what he was going through. That their future and the possibilities that were once real were unreachable. That it was All. Her. Fault. That had done it.

Aria's pen met the paper. Before she knew it, she was immersed in thought, and not even the construction next door could pull her to her senses.

 **\- V -**

"Melissa? I know you've been getting my messages. Just call me back. Please. It's not that difficult."

Spencer was frustrated. Melissa had to have seen Toby tailing her. Or have gotten tipped off somehow. There was no other reason she'd be avoiding her like this. Part of her was angry. The other part knew it was irrational and unjustified.

"Spencer?"

Spencer whipped around.

"Mom!" She rose from the couch, and gave Veronica a long sought-after embrace. "How was Huntingdon?"

"Oh, it was exhausting, honey. There's only so many people I can charm before I'm just wiped."

Veronica opened the fridge.

"Yeah… I know the feeling." Spencer paused. "Hey Mom… does Melissa know you're here?"

Veronica turned. "Not sure. She hasn't been answering my calls since last night. Why? Is she not here?"

Spencer shook her head. Just then, a coffee-colored truck pulled into the winded driveway.

"Shoot," muttered Spencer. "I'll be right back, Mom," she said, as she opened the screen door, and ran down to where Toby had parked.

"Toby?" She called out.

"Spencer. Can you get in for just a few minutes?" Toby pointed towards the passenger seat.

"Yeah." Spencer looked around, and got into the truck.

Toby got right to it. "Why did you have me follow Melissa? And what was she doing on the phone a few days ago? Why are you keeping things from me again?"

Spencer turned her head to the side. "Toby, I don't know. Honestly. Melissa's being secretive. I… I guess I shouldn't have asked you if I'd known it'd bring us to that place again."

Toby shook his head. "I don't want it to." Then he continued. "Does this have to do with Ezra's arrest? And Mona's return?"

"How do you—"

Toby shot his girlfriend a look.

"I don't know, Toby. Honestly. I don't know why it would, but I also don't know for sure that it doesn't. I just think it might be starting again."

"What is starting again, Spencer?"

Spencer turned to face her boyfriend.

"I think that there's someone out to get us."

 **\- VI -**

Hanna lay on the side of the bed that she preferred whenever Caleb was with her. Normally, if he was out of town, she'd stretch herself all over it. This time, it didn't feel right.

She picked her phone up.

"It's me again. I know you don't want to talk to me right now. But I just want you to know that when you decide you're ready, so am I."

She sighed, and let her phone drop to the carpeted floor.

A pair of knuckles rapped on the door.

"Yeah?"

The door opened.

"I come bearing French toast," Ashley announced in a singsong voice, dressed in her pre-dawn yoga outfit.

"That's nice. It's like I'm in sixth grade all over again," said Hanna, taking the plate, making a dire attempt to keep positive.

Ashley perched herself next to her daughter on the bed.

"Is Caleb still gone?" She inquired, her head gesturing towards the phone on the floor.

Hanna shook her head, and swallowed the wad of syrupy French toast she'd ingested.

"This is where I, as a mother, find myself in that horrible monkey in the middle position," continued Ashley, leaning her head back onto a pillow. "I understand your perspective. You're my daughter, and I side with you always," she said, putting her hand on Hanna's shoulder. "But at the same time, Caleb's perspective makes an awful lot of sense under the circumstances. Don't you think?"

"I'm not saying he's in the wrong, Mom. I just wish he wouldn't be so quick to judge."

Ashley lay her head back up.

"It's not about being quick to judge. His feelings about Mona are perfectly valid. It's not the first time she's imposed herself between you two." She extended a hand to rub her daughter's tense back. "What bothers me is his leaving you. You two aren't in high school anymore. You can't do that. Either of you."

Hanna scoffed. "Try telling him that."

Ashley playfully punched her daughter in the shoulder. "Chin up, stranger. You'll get there."

 **\- VII -**

It was gusty out. The rain had cleared up, and it was perfect weather to swim, even though Rosewood High's swimming pool was indoors. Emily had left her clipboard in her car.

"Emily? Emily Fields?"

Emily almost stumbled over the curb she was crossing, to see none other than Mona Vanderwaal leaning out of her blue Honda Odyssey's drivers' window.

Emily didn't say anything. She held her gaze locked.

"Well, are we having a staring contest?" Mona teased, in an affected tone of voice. "Because you know I'll win."

"We're a little past winning and losing here, Mona," replied Emily.

"So to speak, yes," conceded Mona.

"What brings you here?" Emily demanded, her face stoic.

"Sometimes it's nice to reminisce. Think about the past. And you know, ever since getting back," Mona leaned out of her window. "I've really started appreciating everything small towns like these have to offer. It's so important, you know. Being well-connected."

"Is it?"

Emily could make out the faint traces of a smirk on Mona's mouth, before the latter pulled out of the parking lot, not bothering to answer the rhetorical question that'd been posed.

 **\- VIII -**

Alison pushed herself into the staff bathroom. She'd been getting over last night's migraine, and her medication had had an extreme diuretic effect.

She did not in any way anticipate to see her former foe, Paige McCullers washing her hands.

Upon seeing each other, both womens' mouths gaped a tad, before they regained their composures.

"Hello, Alison." Paige would be civil. Alison hadn't done anything to her in a long, long time.

Suddenly, the gears in Alison's head began spinning. She pushed aside the conversation she'd had with Emily a matter of hours ago. Here was the woman who would only complicate things. Who would delay any progress Emily would make in recovering. Who would wedge herself between Alison and her wife. Whose obsession with Emily was the epitome of one-sided.

Alison wasn't thinking correctly. She knew. But she just couldn't contain herself. An underhanded smirk crept across her face.

"Well, well, well," she started, walking towards the mirrors to apply lipstick. Any excuse to witness Paige's faltering. "Seeing you here brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Paige shut the sink off. Her expression impassible. "Does it?"

Alison leaned on the sink, and turned towards Paige.

"I'm guessing the pay over in Ames was at the very least three times higher than it is here."

Like a smoke detector detecting humidity, Paige plucked Alison's aggression from the breeze.

She turned to face the woman who'd devoted her high school years to tormenting her. Even though she disappeared, the wounds of what she'd done festered.

Alison continued. "I'm also guessing that the team over at Iowa State makes ours look like a fleet of windup toys learning the doggy paddle." Alison moved forward, facing her opponent. "So what the hell are you doing here?"

Paige arched her arm, placing her hands on her hips. She returned Alison's menacing simper.

"After all these years, Alison, you really are as insecure as ever, aren't you?" Paige mirrored Alison's position, and leisurely sauntered towards her. "Let me tell you this much, Alison. You don't intimidate me. Not in the least. I have nothing to justify to you."

Alison's anger seized the best of her.

She snarled. "You won't take what's mine."

Paige smirked back. "I also wonder how Emily feels about your talking about her like she's a helpless baby doll."

That was too much. Alison threw her arm back, her hand in the air. Just as her nails were inches from striking Paige's face, Paige clenched her wrist with a vipers' reflex.

"Ooh! Careful, Alison," she growled. Her tone calmed. "I would advise you to keep things professional. Letting your feelings get in the way… not safe."

Collectedly, Paige let go of Alison's hand, pushed herself off of the sink, and walked out of the bathroom, letting the heavy door shut behind her.

Alison reclined against the sink. She lowered her head, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was flushed and had lost it. She brushed her hand through her disheveled hair. She could've strangled Paige at that moment, but instead resorted to punching the mirror. She cried out in pain, flicking her wrist before storming out.

When the bathroom was empty, the red tip of a white cane became visible, inching out from underneath a stall door. Elegantly, and with a royal smirk contorting her jungle red lips, Jenna Marshall slid out from a stall to the right of the mirrors. She had heard everything.

 **\- IX -**

Aria had endured a patdown for the second time that week, but she would endure them three times a week to see her husband. She chose the same table as the day before. Sure enough, Ezra entered. Upon seeing him, she stood up so he could see her. Fortunately, the guard this time around had a nicer face. But she didn't want to push it.

"Aria, I don't want you using up your weekly visits," Ezra said, as the guard sat him down and returned to the other side of the room.

"I know, honey. I just… I needed to see you as soon as possible," she answered ruefully.

Pause.

She smiled mournfully, fishing in her pocket for the paper she'd been allowed to take in. "I did what you asked me to."

Ezra smiled, his eyes crinkling as she slid the wrinkled piece of notebook paper across the metal table. He affectionately unraveled it, flattening it onto the table. After two minutes, he looked up into his wife's eyes.

"It's beautiful."

"I hoped you would say that."

Ezra turned, looking around, and then at his wife. "I just want to kiss you right now."

Aria's expression tensed. "Ezra, don't. It'll just hurt too much. Like you said yesterday, this will be made right. They can't take us from each other."

Ezra nodded, and cast his gaze down.

Aria's thoughts wandered back to her meeting with the girls that morning.

"Ezra…"

Ezra looked up.

"Was it me?"

Ezra didn't know how to answer.

"Is my file the reason you're in here, or is it something else?"

Ezra looked to the side again, as if he were being watched, and suppressed a nervous swallow.

"It doesn't matter, Aria. It doesn't matter how I got here, even if I knew. I just don't want you thinking that this," he said, gesturing to the ring on Aria's finger, "that this was a mistake. Because that's the last thing it was."

All Aria could do was smile in a dejected, resigned way. She wanted to tell him just how much it mattered, that someone was doing this to him, and to her. She just wanted to confide in him again. But then she thought about how much that would ruin him. He wasn't crying. She didn't want him to feel like he wasn't protecting her, even though he couldn't even if he wanted to.

The couple sat, noiselessly, across the table from each other, smiling penitently.

 **\- X -**

Alison scurried across the quiet Rosewood parking lot at 4 PM, her hair scruffy at the hand the wind, and her hand beating from her assault on the mirror. Pam would take the girls home with her. She spotted Spencer's BMW and jogged steadily towards it.

To her unwelcome surprise, Hanna and Emily were in the backseat.

She opened the door, and swallowed nervously at seeing her wife. There was no way she'd know, right?

"I didn't know you guys were coming," she started, buckling herself.

Hanna rolled her eyes. "It's either wait in the jail lot and get the instant scoop or watch Vanderpump reruns and change my voicemail greeting."

Emily just nodded.

"Let's get a move on," said Spencer, looking over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any cars before pulling out.

Nobody saw the coffee-colored truck following them.

 **\- XI -**

When she saw that Alison had left, Paige rose from the bench next to the stairwell.

She looked around herself as if she were being watched, and pulled a phone out.

"I've done everything you've asked me to. I still am." Her mouth tightened into a determined pinch.

"But now I want proof. Proof that you'll uphold your end of the deal."

 **\- XII -**

Mona sat cross-legged in the back of The Brew, where the couches were piled against one another. She was positively blazing through Sue Grafton's series, but somehow R is for Ricochet didn't strike her fancy.

"The middle's the best part," a male voice said, drawing Mona's gaze upward. "It's where she finally gets what's coming to her."

Caleb Rivers stood imposingly, hands on hips. His gaze seared into Mona's skull.

"I prefer the part right after," Mona replied, poisedly shutting the book, and as nonchalantly as she could, taking a sip of her mocha. "She finally had people stop underestimating her."

Caleb lowered himself in front of his opponent. Enough games.

"Look, Mona. I don't know why you're back. But I want to be very, very clear about something." He said, leaning towards her.

"Hanna and I have made a life for ourselves. We have a daughter who means the world to me."

"Sounds sweet," interjected Mona, brow raised.

As if he hadn't heard her, Caleb continued.

"And you will not force yourself into areas of our life where you aren't invited."

Mona snickered. "You say that as if your humdrum existence is a page-turner."

Caleb continued.

"If I find out that you're toying with Hanna, or any of our friends," he said, leaning even closer. "I'll play along. I'll dedicate every fiber of my being to seeing to it that your ass gets ricocheted into a cellblock, and that you rot there until all that Sephora does for you is clog your wrinkles."

Mona smirked, and then cooed. "Oh, honey. You must be getting a very wrong impression. You see," she said, getting up, and putting her coat on. "When I was gone, I made a decision. Life isn't a chessboard to me anymore. It's a cup of hot cocoa, one that I'm going to relish. So you see, Caleb," she was standing directly in front of him now. "You're getting the heebie jeebies around the wrong person. If there's someone out there lurking in the shadows, it's not me. Too bad that the feeling of fright you're sharing with me isn't mutual," she leered, before making her way to the door.

Caleb remained seated, stone-faced.

As if their verbal spar had gone unnoticed, she stopped.

"Caleb… Tell Hanna I really am sorry, and that I hope she finds out who it is she's afraid of. Soon." Mona's tone had changed to a serious one. Maybe even one of genuine concern and unease. Before turning around completely, a tiny sympathetic smile on her lips crept forward.

Before Caleb could retort, Mona disappeared into the evening.

After three minutes of silence, Caleb made his way to a gray Chevrolet. He opened the passenger door and swung himself inside.

"She was screwing with me for most of the time. But it was weird," he continued, turning towards the man in the drivers' seat. "Towards the end she seemed contrite."

"I'm sure she did."

"I just want to find out what she knows, Lucas. I've learned not to be so positive about knowing who someone is. But she does know something. And for Hanna's sake, we both have to find out what it is."

Lucas nodded solemnly, before pulling out into the night.

 **\- XIII -**

Spencer, Alison, Emily, and Hanna pulled into the expansive parking lot of the gray, imposing Riverside Correctional Facility, and snagged an empty spot.

"Hanna, Em, you guys have to stay. They don't really have lobbies in jail."

"Yeah. Em and I are gonna play some jams," declared Hanna, jabbing Emily in the armpit before imitating a deranged rockstar.

A homicidal expression took ownership of Emily's face.

Spencer smirked as she and Alison left the car, locking it, and made their way to the prison.

"Okay, Spencer, the first thing we're going to ask her is if she let someone stay in the Lost Woods after writing the deed in our name. We're going to have to engineer a way to ask her about Ezra. We're going to have to talk about Alex as well."

Spencer kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

"Spencer. You're usually the one chugging out ideas. Why are you stalling?"

Spencer met Alison's eyes. Her face was listless. She was apprehensive. She inhaled, sighing.

"Alison, for the majority of my life, my family consisted of me, my lawyer parents, and my neurotic older sister. Then, I got to know Jason. Then, you of course. But ever since then, I just… I haven't had the time to process everything that's gone on with Mary, Alex, with Charlotte. To state the obvious, the circumstances weren't favorable and I don't know them. I don't know how I'll face her. There," she drew in her breath again. "There's a million questions buzzing around in my head, and I don't know where to start. I know you thought you'd never hear me say this, but… I'm petrified."

Alison didn't know how to reply. She sighed, and placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I didn't take the time to consider how much all this would impact you. Would it have been easier for me to come here alone?"

Spencer shook her head resolutely. "No."

Then she had enough.

"Let's go, Ali. We have to get Mary to talk."

The pair walked staunchly towards the facility.

 **\- XIV -**

It was Alex's turn to access the communal phone. Finally. She snatched it from the woman who'd been using it for the last twenty-five minutes, and grimaced at her.

She punched in the number she'd been instructed to memorize and waited.

Click. A connection had been established.

Alex spoke.

"Before I thank you, I want to know what your terms are. And what this will get me."

 **\- XV -**

Spencer and Alison sat on the edge of the visitation room at a table for four.

Alison glanced at her cousin, whose fingers were drumming on the metal surface.

"I'll do the talking. But I want you to interject if I leave something out."

Spencer nodded morosely.

Then, she entered. Dark hair, gaunt face with ice blue eyes, and standing at 5'10. The splitting image of Alison's mother. Despite the dowdy orange jumpsuit covering her from head to toe, she walked composedly. At seeing the girls, her mouth gaped. She allowed herself to be sat.

"I didn't think I'd ever see either of you again." Mary said, her intonation flat. Her hands nervously wrung each other. She seemed just as nervous as her daughter.

"Hello, Mary," responded Alison.

"Girls, if I could tell you both everything I had to say to you… we'd be here for eternity."

Spencer snorted.

Alison squeezed her cousin's hand under the table and inhaled. She had to get the ball rolling.

"Mary, we came because we have questions. And we were hoping you'd have the answers."

Mary swallowed, and looked around herself before nodding quickly.

"Please, do ask, then."

 **\- XVI -**

Aria sat, curled up on her couch in front of the roaring Montgomery fireplace. She was covered by a blanket, and wore mittens. Seeing Ezra had helped her regain some of the spark she used to possess, but she was distant, reticent and reclusive. Her phone was blown up with unanswered messages asking about her welfare. How she was. How she was dealing with it. If she needed anything. Even her writing deadline had been extended.

Byron assumed a position right next to her.

"You went to visit him today?" He asked, stroking her shoulder.

She nodded, sullenly.

"Sweetie… if this wasn't Ezra, I wouldn't be so sure that things will work out. But you two are," he continued, taking a sip of Riesling, "by far the most odd-defeating couple I've set my sight upon."

Aria smiled silently. "That's what he says."

Byron looked into his daughter's eyes.

Aria continued. "I don't know how he's doing it."

Byron stroked her hand. "But he is. And that's what matters."

Ella walked in, a glass of Chablis in her hand. She sat down on the recliner diagonally to them.

"Do you need anything, sweetie?" She asked, her thoughtful brown eyes reflecting the glow of the hearth.

Aria shook her head.

Silently, almost indecipherably, she muttered, "Just you."

The phone sounded off.

Byron sighed, rising to get it. Nobody could hear the conversation.

"Aria?!"

As if her hair was on fire, Aria jolted up, dropping her blanket on the floor.

"It's for you."

Byron gulped anxiously. Without so much as looking at her father, she seized the phone from his hand.

"Yes?" She demanded, hastily.

Aria's face turned a wraithlike shade of white. The phone dropped to the floor, hitting the porcelain tiles with a thud.

"NO!"

 **-FINIS-**

A hooded, masked figure peered out from behind one of the Philadelphia State Hospital's many walls on the sixth floor. The figure stood sixty feet in front of the ICU, where five hospital staff knelt over the target, barking desperate, last-attempt instructions at each other.

The job had been completed.

The heart monitor beeped.

One less item on the agenda.

The coast was clear to go.

The hooded figure took the empty elevator, strode through the lobby with its head down, and vanished into the frigid parking lot.


	6. Chapter 6

**\- I -**

 _ **Hours earlier…**_

Ezra lay on his side on the insecurely supported bed in the corner of cellblock that had been his shelter for the last weeks.

He could hear the thunder, but his eyes were stripped of the world he held so dear, sealed by grim, inexorable metal bars.

Just as lightning struck, he heard the key turn in its lock.

He grimaced. What could the guards possibly be needing from him? Certainly his wife wasn't back… right?

Without rising, Ezra rolled over to the side facing the door.

A gleaming, metallic flash of sadism met his eyes, as his face transformed to one of sheer, unadulterated terror.

Was this hell?

 **\- II -**

At 10:25 PM, an onslaught of hail was streaming down from the heavens in front of the Mercy Philadelphia Hospital.

Spencer, Hanna, Emily and Alison were thronged together in the lobby of the hospital. The ICU was a matter of steps down the hall, but there was no way they'd be allowed in.

Emily's face was tear-streaked.

"He didn't deserve this," she choked out, burying herself in Alison's sleeve.

If Alison had been uncomfortable around her wife, she had seemingly forgotten, for she held Emily's head in her arm, rocking it. Alison's face had assumed an almost purple shade in sheer exhaustion, and she had clearly been crying.

Spencer and Hanna gripped each other's hands, silently.

Neither of them cried. And although it would set in later, their expressions spoke volumes.

Emily released herself from her wife's tenacious grasp.

Before she could be stopped, she ran over to the nurse patrolling the halls, who froze in place, blocking the entrance.

"We need to see him and his wife, please!"

The nurse's expression spoke remorse, but she couldn't risk her job.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Only family is allowed."

"Emily… Emily come here, that's not going to make it better." Spencer, who had followed, gently took her friend by the arm, leading her back to the chairs.

Looking as if she hadn't felt the warmth of a bed in weeks, Ella Montgomery ambled out of the hallway, mumbling something to the nurse, who nodded and made her way into the unit. Her entire face was blue and distended from the magnitude of salt that had escaped her eyes in the form of tears. Her gait was aimless, and she had to support herself on an adjacent chair.

"Thank you, girls, for coming."

It seemed as if the words cost her.

"We… we don't exactly know what's going to happen next, or how this… this happened in the first place, but…"

The tears reformed in Ella's eyes.

She managed to stutter out: "All I know is that my daughter's not going to be herself again for a long, long time."

 **-III-**

Mona's disgust at the morning coffee of the prison's visitation room was palpable. She couldn't hide it. Her lips curled into a revolted glower.

Alex couldn't resist it. A deep, guttural grunt erupted from the back of her throat. She burst out snorting, and it evolved into an unhinged, feral laughter.

She leaned forward, leering.

"C'est dommage. It's not the Four Seasons, is it, sweetheart?

Composedly, Mona set down the cup she'd been holding.

"It's quite something. How barbaric it is, that that's how you're supposed to get the ball rolling every morning."

Alex's amusement was short-lived.

"Enough with the prattle," she barked. "I called you because I want answers. And if you bothered picking up the phone and slithering over here in the first place, it's because you have them. And if you don't…" Alex snapped her fingers menacingly.

Mona looked enticed. She folded her small, beautified hands, and tilted her head innocently.

"I do hope I have just what it is you're looking for."

Mona leaned forward, simpering.

"Because if I do, we're gonna make one hell of a team, you and I. And we're both going to get. Exactly. What. We. Wanted."

 **-IV-**

Alison, Emily, Spencer, and Hanna sat in the DiLaurentis living room. Everyone had called out sick of their jobs. It was an all too familiar habit, with ancient roots in their high school days.

"I can't believe we didn't even see Aria," Hanna initiated the conversation, shaking her head.

Without looking up from the coffee she had prepared but wasn't drinking, Spencer replied. "Aria wouldn't have been able to see us in her state anyway, Hanna. Her mom sent us that SOS."

Emily had stopped sobbing early that morning, but her eyes were a bloodshot red.

"I don't know what any of us can do for her," she stated, her voice laced with despondence.

Silence.

"We don't know what happened, you guys," Spencer restarted. "But I intend to go to the police station later today to find out everything. I don't care what they withhold."

"Squeeze 'em like a grapefruit." Hanna replied.

No one bothered punching her in the arm this time.

With a deadly, stone determined expression on her face, she continued.

"Who's coming with me?"

 **-V-**

Aria had been wearing the same outfit for over 24 hours. She needed a shower, and her short, disheveled bob looked more like the coarse yarn of a mop than it did a stylistic, minimalist coiffure. Her face had been bloated, and her hand would develop calluses from the utter number of times her trembling hand had stroked Ezra's cold, unresponsive arm, while doing the best she could to not disarm the oxygen-supplying system that could be his only hope for salvation.

It was now, more than ever that Aria wished she could understand the jargon surrounding her in the hospital room. Ezra's cardiac rhythm resembled the wrinkles on her forehead. The repeated beeping of the heart monitor resembled a more gruesome form of Chinese water torture.

Aria sighed, sounding like her breath would snap in two.

She started talking to herself.

"If I had confessed to encouraging you, to wanting you, to lusting after you, would this have happened? Would they have listened to me? Would we be here right now?"

A single tear rolled down from her cheek.

"Please wake up, honey, it's my fault, and I didn't mean for this to happen…"

Nothing.

Aria flinched, almost kicking the IV system next to her, when she felt a strong hand grasp her shoulder.

"Honey, don't. Don't be frightened."

Byron had pulled up a stool.

A man who normally refrained from showing overt emotion, his face was as equally disfigured as his wife's and his daughter's.

The pair sat in silence.

The hesitation to speak was written all over Byron's face as he opened his mouth.

"You know, Aria…"

Aria didn't react.

"You wouldn't know about this, but there was a moment in time where I wasn't sure your mother would make it to the next day."

Aria turned her head to the side. She was listening, but her eyes were transfixed onto Ezra's unmoving hand.

Byron sighed, continuing.

"You were three, and down in Nashville with Meemaw and Pawpaw, so… so you wouldn't remember this. Your mom was pregnant with Mike. She…" he sighed anew. "She had undergone a C-section. Her placenta was too low for the uterus, almost totally covering the cervix… Your brother was a dangerous pregnancy. And what was worse was that your mother didn't tolerate the epidural anesthetics they had. So they gave her a general one so that she could sleep through the procedure."

Aria was stroking Ezra's hand. Although it didn't seem such, she was indeed listening attentively.

"And then… then she wouldn't wake up," he said, quietly, his expression faltering. "I didn't know what to do. She lay there comatose for at least ten hours past her time. So you want to know what I did? After being as thorny as I could with the staff, I went home, and got a copy of Erich Segal's Love Story. It was Ella's Bible. She kept it at her nighttable, and would highlight passages to herself every night. And what I did next was sit beside her, holding her hand, and read it to her. Beginning to end. Mind you, I was gagging throughout because the plot was just revolting, but I could've sworn that your mother had that placid smile on her face she gets sometimes. Two hours later… she woke up."

For the first time, Aria shifted her face to look at her father's eyes. She had no words.

He reached into his messenger bag he'd taken with him, an extended a tattered, lovingly handled copy of a book she had taken everywhere with her since she'd met her husband. From the very first day.

"Winesburg Ohio, by Sherwood Anderson. Read it front to back, back to front. It's better than some of the others he liked."

Byron sighed.

"Give it a shot, Aria."

Aria was silent. Quietly, she started sobbing, and reached for her dad's warm embrace.

 **-VI-**

Hanna shut her car off. Her stomach felt as if an empty pit had been carved into it. It wasn't because she was famished. Sedatedly, aimlessly, she made her way into the house.

Ashley had been leaning on the countertop. She rose, with a pained expression on her face, and embraced her daughter.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

Hanna nodded, solemnly.

"Me too." A male voice from the hallway leading to the kitchen from the front room.

Hanna jerked up.

From behind where Ashley had stood, Caleb was. His solemn, grave expression was fixed towards Hanna, then fell to the ground.

"Caleb…"

Hanna rushed to embrace him. Tears gushed out.

"I'm never leaving you again, Hanna. Not like that. Not ever."

It was silent. Ashley broke it.

"There's breakfast. The least thing you can do Hanna, is have the strength to get up on your feet to help your friend."

Slowly, somberly, the three made their way into the sunlit kitchen.

 **-VII-**

"Thanks, Gil. Yes. Okay, thanks, you too. Bye-bye."

Veronica hung the phone on its holder. Her expression morphed into one of dismay as she saw her daughter sitting silently, head hung over a fifth cup of caffeine, on the kitchen counter. She approached her, and gently lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Spencer, honey, can I get you anything? Can I cancel today's recruit session?"

Spencer shook her head.

Veronica pulled up a chair next to her. Out of nowhere, she could see the gears in her daughter's head spinning. Veronica leaned to the side to catch a better glimpse of her face.

"Spencer? What is it, sweetie?"

"Mom? There is something I need your help with."

"Anything."

Spencer turned to look at her mother in the face.

"I want you to come to the police station with me today."

Veronica looked to the side, sighing. "Spencer, I can't intimidate information out of them without an immediate family member being there. You're going to need to get Aria to come."

Spencer sighed. "Wait, there's one more thing. Mom… I need you to represent Ezra."

Before Veronica, who looked surprised, could gather a reply, the door barged open, and Toby stampeded in.

For a fleeting second he looked nervous at seeing Veronica, but ran over to Spencer.

"Spence. Spence, I'm here."

Spencer let herself be embraced.

"I don't know what to do…"

 **-VIII-**

Emily and Alison had not moved from their spot on the sofa for hours. They lay, rooted to the spot, scared that moving would break something else.

"I can't believe it's come down to this." Alison shook her head.

Emily lay her head in the crook of her wife's arm.

"Ezra believed in me at a time when I didn't believe in myself. Without him, I wouldn't have ended up where I am today."

Alison squeezed her wife's hand.

"Ezra has a gift for making people feel special. Aria… she's lucky."

Emily scrabbled herself up. "So am I."

Alison looked at her wife as if she wasn't catching on.

"Ali, you stayed when you had every chance to take the girls and leave. I gave you hell when I came back. I killed an innocent girl. You paid for my therapy. You paid for the girls. You were our lifeblood. I… I don't know how I can ever repay you."

Alison swallowed, thinking of her fight with Paige the day before.

She sighed.

"Don't mention it, Emily." She nodded her head to the door.

"Let's get back to the hospital. Hanna wants to come too. I doubt there's going to be any update, or that Aria's gonna be in the waiting room, but it's worth a shot."

Hand in hand, the couple walked to their car.

 **-IX-**

"I don't know what to say, Mike."

Mona was simultaneously rifling through files on her laptop at the miniature, newly installed Rosewood Starbucks and getting the scoop from Mike.

"I don't think she'll receive it well, but tell her that I'm sorry, and that if there's anything I can do… Of course. Love you too."

Hangup.

It was time to get down to business.

 **-X-**

Hanna, Emily, and Alison rushed into the waiting room that they'd practically spent the night at.

"What's happened since yesterday?" Alison asked the nurse, who'd been stationed there the day before.

Before the nurse could reply, Hanna looked past her. Aria was leaning against the wall of the resting room, and was just putting her purse over her shoulder.

Hanna ran to her friend, Emily and Alison in suite.

"Aria, I am so sorry."

Aria sniffled lightly.

"Thank you guys for being here."

They embraced. Aria was always a tiny girl, but her embrace felt skeletal and featherlike.

"Where are you going?" Hanna inquired, as Aria started ambling down the corridor. Like if the wind were strong enough, her bones would turn to ash and dissipate into the silvery skies.

"Um… I'm… I'm going down to the police station with Spencer and her mom. It's the only way we'll get an explanation."

Aria was visibly afraid. Her hands wrung each other.

Emily placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you want us to come with you?"

If Aria had seemed nervous a moment ago, jt was over with. Her face turned firm.

"No. I need you to stay here and call me the second something happens with Ezra. Don't go anywhere else. Please."

The three girls nodded, and Aria made her way to the elevator. The doors shut.

 **-XI-**

Mona was receiving odder and odder looks from the customers at the Starbucks by the minute, as her typing speed neared 80 words per minute, only interrupted by a prolonged slurp of chai.

It didn't faze Mona, as she scowled in response.

She was doing something illegal. Criminal. Felonious. She knew that if any living breathing, soul found out what she was doing, that she'd be barred.

The Carissimi Group's site was encrypted. Mona chuckled to herself. How daft did they think she was? This was no biggie.

After eight minutes, she was in.

She took a swift look, surveying her environment, like a bird of prey.

Mona's fingers drummed on the dashboard of her PC in anticipation.

"Come on, come on…"

This would help her gain leverage. This would help her gain trust. This would help her get everything that she wanted.

That was until Mona looked at the tiny, one-digit number that her entire master plan depended on, at the bottom of the page labeled "Balance and Funds", and her hand covered her mouth in shock, as her until-then rapidly pumping blood turned to ice cold stone.

"No!"

 **-XII-**

Spencer, Aria, and Veronica pulled into the parking lot of the Rosewood Police Station at 5:16 PM. It was pitch dark.

Spencer glanced at her phone, and swallowed nervously.

"Mom, can you take Aria in with you? I'll be right there, Aria."

Veronica nodded, guiding a sickly Aria up the steps.

A gray Sedan pulled up next to Veronica's black Volvo.

Spencer got out.

"Thanks for coming… Caleb."

"Thank you for telling me about this, Spencer. It means a lot. Especially because I wouldn't be hearing this from Hanna."

Spencer smiled briefly. "I know."

"And like you asked… if Toby finds out about this, it won't be from me."

Spencer swallowed nervously once more.

"Let's go, Caleb. We need to start riding my mom's coattails to make a scene."

The two ran up the stairway, not seeing the coffee-colored truck meters away from them.

Veronica's heels drew the attention of every police officer in the precinct.

"I need to speak to Lieutenant Tanner at once."

The officers exchanged panicked glances, as one went into the back to retrieve the woman sought.

 **-XIII-**

It was 5:30 PM. There wasn't a soul in sight at the dimly lit, flickering Rosewood Bus Stop. A man in a scraggly hoodie was seated on the bench, whose brown paint was peeling off. He was engaged in something visibly important on his phone.

He heard the distinct sound of heeled shoes approaching him. He didn't need to look up to see who it was.

"You finally decided to come out of hiding, did you?"

"Jason, what was I supposed to do? He followed me."

Jason scoffed, visibly irritated. He directed his gaze towards the brunette at his side, who was standing demandingly with her hands on her hips.

"I don't know, Melissa, how about being more cautious?"

Melissa turned around as if she were being watched.

"I won't be staying for long, Jason."

Jason shook his head, reaching into his pocket.

Before Jason could give her whatever it was he had, Melissa reached into her purse.

She extended him a rectangular object.

"Is this the evidence?" He asked, examining it.

"Yes," she replied. "You know what you need to do."

Now it was Jason's turn to gulp.

Jason managed to pull out a check from his spacious front pocket.

"Here's what I withdrew," he said. He licked his lips nervously. "There's something not right about this. I really don't know why we're transferring the account ownership to _her_. She has nothing to do with this," he added, quickly handing his half-sister a check as if it were on fire.

Exasperated, Melissa rolled her eyes, and snatched it from his extended hand.

"Don't you understand, Jason?" She snapped. "It doesn't matter what's right and what's wrong," she continued, stuffing it into her beige leather wallet. "If this is what's going to get us what we need, and ensure that that bitch never sees the light of day again, then so be it."

With that, the conversation ended, and as if the two didn't know each other, they parted ways.

 **-XIV-**

Veronica's arms were on her hips, and she leaned menacingly on the precinct's reception desk.

Spencer, Aria, and Caleb sidled up behind her. They themselves were pretty intimidated.

"Wait for it…" Spencer said, trying to lighten the tension.

Only Caleb snickered. Aria remained expressionless. Spencer looked down. It was not the time for jokes.

As if on cue, an officer walked out of the rear hallway, followed by none other than the elusive Lieutenant herself.

The woman's typically nonplussed, borderline smug expression tensed at seeing the senatorial candidate and her flock.

She walked up to Veronica.

"Hello, ma'am. Hello, girls and gentleman. It's so nice to see you all again. What can I do for you?"

Veronica cut to the chase.

"Lieutenant, I'm here with the wife of Ezra Fitz. Her husband has been incarcerated in Philadelphia for the last three days. As I am sure you are aware, Ezra has been hospitalized and is in the intensive care unit due to a critical chest wound. I need you to explain to me how this incident occurred under the prison's direct supervision, and to his wife, unless you would like to face me down in opposing counsel for withholding incriminatory information."

Tanner simpered.

"Well, you will need to accompany me in back."

Just as Spencer, Caleb, and Aria got up, Tanner wheeled around, sneering.

"Oh, but I'm afraid that you two lovebirds aren't allowed in." She pointed at Spencer and Caleb as if they were five year olds caught rifling through the cookie jar. "There aren't enough seats, and it's not a need-to-know. Just Aria, as his immediate wife. Sorry."

Veronica turned around, shrugging. It was as far as she could go.

Aria was following Veronica to the back room, but just as she rounded the desk, she stopped in her tracks.

Veronica and Tanner turned around, confused. Spencer and Caleb exchanged a glance.

"Aria, honey, are you coming?"

Aria inhaled sharply. "Lieutenant Tanner, I'd like to get back to my husband. You have my authorization to tell Mrs. Hastings everything. Please do so."

Aria turned around pointedly, not so much as looking at Spencer and Caleb, and ran to her car in the parking lot, speeding off.

Lieutenant Tanner gestured to Veronica nonchalantly.

"Shall we?"

 **-XV-**

At 6:45 PM, The nurse was secretly working on a crossword puzzle while patrolling the halls of the ICU. Once in a while she glanced up, in the opposite direction of the direction she should have.

The frame of a gaunt man became visible through the glass pane in room 104 behind the inattentive nurse. He stole a glance at the waiting room, to see Hanna, Emily, and Alison fast asleep, leaning on each other's shoulders.

Nobody could know he was here.

Slowly, he turned towards the sleeping man. Gently, he lifted his hand.

The activity on the heart monitor increased. Nervously, the man looked up. Should he risk closing the door?

"Nurse! We need you down in the pit. The patient in 104 is at rest, so move it."

The nurse rolled her eyes, cramming the puzzle book in a bin. Hurriedly, she rushed towards the voice of her superior.

No need to shut the door after all.

As if Ezra had been conscious of the happenings around him, his blue eyes fluttered.

Both men were taken aback.

The man who had entered immediately came to it. Soothingly, he placed his hand on Ezra's. Ezra's grasp tightened, as his eyes widened. He wasn't able to speak. The intruder's honey brown eyes were studded with tears.

"Don't. Please, please don't exert yourself."

The man looked around himself, to check if the coast was still clear. He placed his second hand on top of Ezra's, in an almost loving manner. He started to cry.

"I swore that before my dying day, I would do all that it took to see you again."

Ezra's eyes shut despairingly. He opened them, to reveal tears sprouting in his eyes as well. He tried tightening his feeble grasp.

The man standing at his bedside gently stroked his hand.

"And now…" he choked out. "Now I'm going to make a second vow. When I find out who did this to you, I will kill them. Kill them with my bare hands."

Ezra gently removed his hand from under the man's. He motioned, feebly, weakly, for the man to come closer so that he could tell him something.

The man did so.

Ezra's mouth opened and closed several times, as he made dire attempts to formulate words. Like he could read his mind, and with remarkable speed, the man filled an adjacent glass of water from a pitcher to moisten his mouth. The man moved his head closer to Ezra, trying to hear what was said.

"This… this happened… I exposed the… the truth…"

The man jolted back as the heart monitor erupted in beeping.

"Exposed? Exposed what? Who? Please. Ezra, please, you're all we have left," he pleaded, gently shaking his shoulders. It was to no avail.

"Code Blue, team to Room 104 stat. I repeat, Code Blue, team to Room 104."

The intruder sprinted out, casting one final tearful glance at the laying man, and jumped through an open window into the accessible fire escape.

 **-FINIS-**

The storage room at the back of the RV was indescribably musty, and had not been ventilated for eons. Despite this, a hooded figure was fingering the boxes on the dusty metal racks, seemingly searching for an item.

Eureka.

A box was set out onto an adjacent table. The lid was removed.

Liar's Lament.

What. Hogwash. A vile sneer crept across the figure's face.

Without a second thought, the figure picked up a hatchet, and obliterated the board, tossing it into a garbage bin so it could be taken out alongside all the other forgotten, cast aside, neglected schemes.

Next, the figure removed a bin of used burner phones. Those were tossed too.

It was time for an upgrade.


	7. Chapter 7

**-I-**

There were four officers left at the precinct. It was 9:57 PM, and the downpour was Herculean. Zeus had never been more angry with the town of Rosewood.

Spencer's eyes were fighting to stay open, and beside her, Caleb reclined on the waiting room chair. Both were exhausted, but were jolted out of any potential slumber as their phone alerted them about everything regarding Ezra.

At 10:03 PM, Veronica walked out of the back room alone. Her stride was composed, but her brows were furrowed, and her gaze spoke concern, as she appeared to be transfixed on something in the distance.

Spencer jolted upright when Caleb nudged her, gesturing at her mother. Veronica approached them, and looked around her.

"We'd best have this discussion in the car. Let's go, you two."

 **-II-**

Aria exited the resting room, her face once again flushed with tears waiting to be shed. Ezra had stopped coding, and had resumed his quasi-vegetative state. The last hours had been fraught with worry, but deep down, she knew that staying at the police station with Spencer and Caleb would have made things worse.

She saw the three girls, Hanna, Emily, and Alison in the waiting room where they'd been for the last hours, talking to a man whose face she couldn't see. He looked up.

"Aria!" Mike ran towards her, his face streaked in tears. "I heard everything this afternoon, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. Please—"

Aria started to cry. She accepted her brother's tenuous embrace.

"Thank you for being here, Mike," she managed to say, before collapsing in his arms.

The temporary silence was shattered by the pounding footsteps of one of the OR nurses, who burst into the lobby.

"Who was in the hallway?" She bellowed. It seemed as if the glass pane vibrated from the sonic impact of her voice.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Aria turned to her friends. Mike and the girls looked panicked.

Hanna instantly rose at command. "What are you talking about?" She asked bluntly.

"Listen, young lady, don't you even think about getting smart with me." The woman was beet red. "Someone went into 104 and tampered with the equipment. That's why Mr. Fitz was coding. They left through the fire escape. Which one of you was it?"

Alison, Emily, and Hanna went pale at the same time.

Aria let herself go from Mike's embrace.

"Guys? What is she talking about?" Her voice was sharp and intense, and would shatter at any minute.

"I… I don't know, Aria." Emily stuttered.

Aria's face turned a deep scarlet. Mike shook his head.

"You said you'd watch him. You said you'd tell me if anything happened to my husband."

Tears of nerves started to bud in Alison's eyes.

"Aria, we—"

That was enough. Aria's hazel eyes were blazing with fury.

"Get out. Get out of my sight."

The girls stood transfixed, in front of the chairs. Tentatively, Mike reached for his sister, knowing she would explode.

"NOW!"

 **-III-**

Veronica's hands were tightly folded over her skirt as she sat in the driver's seat of her Volvo. She had visibly learned nerve-wracking information. Spencer sat in the back, Caleb at the opposite side.

"Mom, tell us what happened. Now."

Veronica inhaled sharply.

"It's best that Aria left when she did."

She turned to face her daughter and her friend behind her.

"Spencer, Lieutenant Tanner told me that Ezra was bludgeoned in the chest at least 15 times with the blade of a curved, 20 inch, 2 pound weapon."

She gulped. Spencer's mouth gaped and Caleb clutched her arm tentatively. Veronica waited for the information to sink in before continuing.

"Ezra was reportedly alone in his cellblock when this happened. He was attacked while he was lying down. According to the Philly PD, there weren't any signs of forced entry into his cellblock. The assailant must have had a key of some kind, or Ezra must have let them in deliberately. The inmates and any correctional staff have been formally cleared of any suspicion."

Spencer couldn't fight the tears welling up in her eyes. Veronica was facing the same struggle. Caleb's face turned white.

"Spencer, the attack on Aria's husband was both deliberate and premeditated."

 **-IV-**

Alex alternated between twirling the suspension string of her jumpsuit shirt and the curled brown strand of her hair. She was nervous, but more thankful for her sheer genius than she'd ever been before. Hacking the visitation system had been no easy task, but it was the only way she'd be able to ensure that she'd get what she needed.

As if on cue, the female guard emerged from the dark, standing at the door of her cellblock.

"You have a visitor."

Expressionlessly, Alex let herself be cuffed and guided to the visitation room, where her mouth slightly dropped at seeing who had come. Not who she had expected. In a matter of seconds, she regained her snark.

"Well, well, well… I have to say that Rosewood posh suits you better than Ethiopian highlands, brother."

Jason seemed equally as nervous. He wasn't sure how to respond to Alex's immediate verbal assault.

"Hello, Alex."

Alex folded her hands as if she were preparing for a job interview.

"How can I help you?" She asked, her tone as sweet as England's finest Cadbury.

Jason inhaled pointedly. "I've been doing some thinking, and I've decided that I want to get to know you." Jason looked to the side as if he were being watched before sighing. "I know how damaged our family is. Alex, I'm not here to attack you."

Alex snorted, amused. "My favorite color is black, I possess an affection for wild canids, I sleep with my socks on, I pour milk in the bowl before the cereal, I'm allergic to poinsettias, and I taught myself the fiddle and the bassoon."

Jason stared at her.

Alex burst out laughing at her own wit.

"Alex, I'm serious. I want to be your bridge. I want to help you get what you ultimately want. You're my sister, and I—" Jason was getting emotional. This didn't happen often. "I know how it feels to be ostracized. All I want to do Alex, is… is give you the chance Charlotte never got."

At this, Alex stopped smiling. Hearing the name of her late sister caused her to tense. She looked down. Back up. Jason's eyes seemed to be pleading. She gulped, hoping he couldn't see.

She made eye contact with her brother.

"That's right, Jason. You don't know anything about me. I already have friends on the other side." Alex snapped her fingers for the guard. "There is absolutely nothing I want from you."

"Alex, please—"

Alex sniffled. Jason had rattled her cage. "You can tell Spencer that you're one shitty messenger. Don't come back here."

"Alex, that's not why I came—"

Alex had already turned, and the guard was leading her out.

Jason jolted up from his seat in a last attempt to get his sister's attention.

"Alex, you aren't safe. Someone's after you and I'm trying… I'm trying to stop them."

Alex spun around. Jason rose from his seat, casting her a final meaningful glance before slipping out into the night.

 **-V-**

It was 7:02 AM of the following morning. Spencer, Emily, Alison, and Caleb were in the DiLaurentis living room.

Alison was making herself busy in the kitchen.

"I'm not even going to ask who got sleep last night and who didn't. The coffee's going to be black for everyone."

Spencer looked up from her hands.

"Thank me later, Spencer." Ali said, throwing a halfhearted wink at her cousin.

Emily started. "Ezra being in the hospital means we have to find out who's after us. Ali… Spencer, you haven't told us what Mary told you."

Alison turned around from the kettle, and looked anxiously at Spencer. Just then, the door burst open, and Hanna pounded in.

"Aria's not responding to—" She stopped dead in her tracks at seeing Caleb seated at the kitchen counter.

"Caleb, what are you doing here?"

Caleb looked up. "Wondering why my own wife is incapable of telling me what's going on in her life, when her best friend is."

Hanna looked down, and then at Spencer.

"Hanna, I—"

Emily wasn't going to let herself be interrupted. "Guys, we can argue about this later. Aria and Ezra come first right now. Hanna, sit. Spencer, talk."

*** Two days prior… ***

 _Mary looked down nervously at her hands. Her sense of shame was palpable. It wasn't going to deter Alison._

" _Mary, Spencer's getting billed for utility from the Lost Woods. Could you explain why that is?"_

 _Mary looked up._

" _Well, have you rented it out?" She asked expectantly._

 _Spencer looked up, her face cold as ice. "No, Mary. We haven't been there since you wrote the deed in our name."_

 _Mary looked down. Spencer's tone cut. Alison nudged her cousin._

" _Mary, someone's been squatting in one of the rooms. Do you know who it could be?"_

 _Mary gulped, alarmed._

" _Girls, I have no idea. Have… have you reported this?"_

 _Spencer snorted again. Alison kicked her in the shin._

 _As if Mary realized how unsatisfying her response was, she continued. "I have no idea who could be using those rooms. I certainly didn't grant anyone access."_

 _Alison and Spencer looked at one another._

 _Mary looked into the distance pensively. "One thing does strike me as odd, though." Spencer jerked up, now paying her biological mother more heed. "A matter of months before I gave you girls the deed, I was getting calls at least every two days. Someone was willing to offer a massive sum of money to be able to rent those rooms."_

" _And?"_

" _Well, the place was being renovated, so of course I politely declined. It struck me as very strange. Every time I asked them to identify themselves, they would hang the phone. But they called back each time. It was the same caller, I'm sure of it."_

" _Who was the caller?"_

" _I wouldn't know. The voice was very affected."_

 _Spencer scoffed, angry. "Like hell you wouldn't."_

 _Alison elbowed her cousin. "Spencer, stop."_

 _Spencer looked down._

" _We have other questions, Mary. I don't know if you know that Aria's husband has been arrested."_

 _Mary tilted her head innocently._

" _We don't think it's a coincidence."_

 _Mary shook her head mournfully before responding. "I am so sorry for Aria, I really am, but I wouldn't know anything about her husband besides his unfortunate encounter with… Alexandra."_

 _Spencer's eyes were still rooted to the floor._

" _Mary, do you think Alex worked with someone when she was after us?"_

 _Spencer stole an admiring glance at her cousin. She. Had. Nerve._

 _At this, Mary gulped. Spencer looked up. Were they onto something?_

" _Girls, there were many odd interactions I had with Alexandra. I tried convincing her so many times. To just cease her quest for revenge. To get closure in a healthy way that would help her move on like her beautiful sister would have wanted." Mary gulped. "Sometimes it seemed that she agreed with me. She would embrace me and tell me how much she wished it were that easy." Mary shook her head. "But whenever I tried taking things a step further, when I suggested she come to Rosewood, she would become angry, and tell me to get out of her life. She would tell me she couldn't do it, and that it wasn't part of the plan. She… she never used the words 'my plan' or said she 'wouldn't' do it."_

 _Spencer and Alison exchanged a glance._

" _But I only considered the possibility in earnest one night when I was visiting her in London."_

 _*** 4 years prior ***_

 _On a morose and windy October evening in 2015, Mary entered the London flat she had been staying at with her daughter, in her hand a bag of freshly made crumpets. Her daughter who she didn't know existed until days prior. She didn't know how she'd even begin to tell her other daughter in Rosewood._

" _Alex? I'm back."_

 _No response._

" _I have to say, dear, London's jam-filled crumpets top Lima's flan. Come out and share some with me, would you?"_

 _Silence. Suddenly, Mary heard sobbing, and the distinct, gentle sound of her daughter crying._

 _She gingerly approached her daughter's bedroom, to see her sprawled out on the floor, on the phone, weeping._

" _I won't screw things up again, I promise you." "No! Please, please don't! I promise I'll do everything you ask me to, just don't—"_

 _Mary tapped lightly on the door hinge._

 _Alex spun around, fear in her eyes._

" _Sweetie? What's the matter?"_

 _Alex mouthed. "Leave." Still on the phone, saying "yes," "yes of course," and "I'll do anything you want," she grabbed a notebook on the nightstand, on which she wrote, in scrawled black ink:_

 _Leave now or I'll be in trouble._

" _Whenever I asked her about that night, she would tell me she didn't know what I was talking about. But it brought me to think that someone was telling her what to do. And deep down I hoped that she wasn't cut from the same cloth as my sister."_

 _Alison looked to the floor, lost in thought._

 _Hesitantly, Mary resumed. "Of course, the choices Alexandra made are something she must bear responsibility for by herself. But… if it were true… that she was being forced to hurt you and your friends… would you be capable of forgiving her?"_

 _Alison and Spencer exchanged an uneasy glance._

 _Mary swallowed nervously. "After all, Spencer, she's not the only one of your sisters capable of atrocities."_

 _Spencer jerked up. "What do you mean?"_

 _Mary gulped again. She had said too much._

" _Girls, I am awfully exhausted. I'd like to retreat now."_

 _Spencer opened her mouth in protest, at which Alison lay her hand on Spencer's arm._

 _Mary rose, signaling for the guard. "I do hope I was of assistance to you both. Good night… and be careful."_

***Present-day***

"So… Mary didn't know who that could be in the Lost Woods?" Emily asked.

Spencer and Alison shook their heads.

"Whoever it is, they're long gone."

"So is this confirmation? That Alex isn't A? That there's some bigger, badder bitch out there?" Hanna replied.

Emily shot Hanna a perturbed look.

Hanna continued. "Wait… wait, Spencer, I know that attacks happen in prison, but you don't think A—"

Emily kicked Hanna in the shin. Hard. "Don't, Hanna. Don't go there yet. Please."

Spencer wasn't having it. "Isn't this what we're all thinking?"

The anxiety was written over everyones' visages.

Caleb shook his head, reinitiating.

"You guys should keep in mind that Mary could be saying anything to help herself and Alex."

Alison set down her mug. "I get where you're coming from, Caleb, but she seemed penitent. I don't understand what she'd get out of saying things like this now. She had the opportunity to get herself out ages ago."

"But who would Alex have been taking orders from…" Emily's expression indicated that she was lost in space.

Alison shot a glance at Spencer. "Spence?"

Spencer didn't look up. "Hmm?"

Alison looked around at everyone. "What did Mary mean when she said that Alex wasn't the only one of your sisters capable of atrocities?"

Spencer looked up. "Well, she must've been talking about Charlotte."

Hanna caught on quickly. "Why would she be talking about Charlotte? She's a corpse."

Alison looked to the side, uncomfortable.

Emily was the second to catch on. "Spencer, you said Melissa just disappeared out of nowhere. No calls or texts, right?"

"She's not there to criticize my stuff at the office either," Hanna interjected.

"I don't know." Spencer sat, staring at the wood of the table.

"If Melissa could have something to do with this, anything at all, I say we find her. That's the first step."

Spencer scoffed at Alison, annoyed. "You say that like finding Melissa's as easy as multiplication tables."

"Hey, I still don't know my twelves."

Caleb joined in, giving Hanna, who shrugged pragmatically, a glance. "Well, Mary said what she said for a reason."

Alison looked at Spencer. "We have to go visit Alex."

Spencer looked down at her knees. Change of subject.

"Didn't Mrs. H say that Ezra was bludgeoned in the chest?"

"Yes, Hanna."

"Does Aria know?"

Spencer gulped.

Emily looked at Alison. "Spencer, you have to tell her. We can't bring that news to her. She's extremely angry with us right now."

"Why?"

Alison sighed. "Ezra coded and we didn't tell Aria in time."

The door to the DiLaurentis house crashed open with a dramatic bang. All five heads wheeled around. Hands on his hips, dirty blonde hair drenched from the rain, and ice blue eyes burning contempt was none other than Toby.

"Well, it's great to see the posse together again."

 **-VI-**

"I told you I didn't want you involved in this, Toby. You have enough going on."

"Yeah. And now I have even more thanks to you not telling me anything about anything."

Toby aggressively opened the passengers' side door to his truck. "Get in. I'll drop you off in Philly."

Spencer nodded, getting in as Toby made his way to the other side of the vehicle.

"How could you do that? How could you visit Mary and go to the police station after everything that's happened and not tell me anything?"

"Toby, you don't understand—"

"You're right, I don't. But I want you to try me."

The only time Toby drove over the limit was when his blood pressure was higher than it should be. This was the case.

Spencer sniffled.

"I cannot afford to lose you again, Toby."

Toby shook his head. "That's a crap excuse, Spencer. We've been through hell _and_ high water. If you think I can't handle this, you've got to look at the big picture."

Spencer put her head in her hands.

"Okay, I just want to live for four years without having to live in fear. Just four years. Just four years of not having to worry about anyone coming after the people I love. Is that incomprehensible to you?"

Silence.

"So you're admitting it? Someone's after you again?"

Spencer shook her head. "We don't know that!"

"Yes, we do. Please don't tell me that Ezra being arrested and being _almost killed_ is a coincidence, and that you making secret jail and precinct visits while having me tail your family is a coincidence either."

Toby slammed the brakes a matter of minutes away from the firm. Spencer jumped in her seat.

"Is A back in our lives? Yes, or no?"

"Toby, I—"

"Yes. Or no."

"Yes, Toby. Yes, they are."

"That's all I needed to hear."

With a look of disdain, Toby parked the car outside of Spencer's firm. Spencer got out, not wanting to look at her boyfriend. Toby grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey. Hell and high water, you heard me?"

Spencer nodded, giving her boyfriend a final glance, fighting the tears in her eyes as she walked towards her office.

 **-VII-**

Aria stroked her comatose husband's arm. She sighed, leaning forward in her chair. Her back ached. Mike had given her a pillow to support herself, which was a godsend. She thumbed the frayed pages of the book she had held closely for the last days. In a quiet, fragile voice, she began.

"Upon the half decayed veranda of a small frame house that stood near the edge of a ravine near the town of Winesburg, Ohio, a fat little old man walked nervously up and down. Across a long field that had been seeded for clover but that had produced only a dense crop of yellow mustard weeds, he could see the public highway along which went a wagon filled with berry pickers returning from the fields." Aria sniffled. "The berry pickers, youths and maidens, laughed and shouted boisterously. A boy clad in a blue shirt leaped from the wagon and attempted to drag after him one of the maidens, who screamed and protested shrilly. The feet of the boy in the road kicked up a cloud of dust that floated across the face of the departing sun. Over the long field came a—"

Ezra's hand clutched hers. Aria froze.

"…Ezra?"

Ezra's blue eyes opened. Aria was frozen in fear, paralyzed with regard to what to do.

"Ezra, can you hear me?"

A loud thud made its presence known from behind her. She whipped around. The distinct outline of a hooded figure was visible, mask pressed against the glass pane of the outer hall. Massive, ice cold hands were mulling around her insides.

"Oh my God…"

Then she did something she thought she'd regret forever.

"NURSE!"

That had done it. The hooded figure sprinted in her direction towards the hall. Aria shrieked, clutching her hand over her mouth when she saw the figure deftly lift itself over the edge, and run down the fire escape onto the crowded Philadelphia avenue.

By the time she turned around, Ezra was gone again.

 **-VIII-**

Hanna and Caleb were en route to campaign headquarters.

"So why did Spencer tell you to come with her to the police station?"

Caleb scoffed. "Because you wouldn't. And I know when stuff is up."

Hanna shook her head. "It wasn't her place to do that. I would never tell Toby to come with me without her knowing about it."

Caleb was annoyed at this point, his hands clutching the steering wheel. "Let's not do saint, Hanna. We both know that keeping secrets only gives A more time to light a fire under our unknowing asses."

Hanna shrugged. She had no response.

They pulled into the parking lot. Rapidly, Caleb seized her hand.

"I don't want you keeping secrets from me anymore. Not about Mona, not about A, not about anything. Not with what's at stake right now. It's more than just us. Think about Lindy. Do you understand me?"

Under all the bluster, Hanna knew he was right. "Even if it makes you a target?"

Caleb bestowed her with a death stare. What an idiotic question.

"You're right, Caleb. We're in this together now."

Out of the rearview of the mirror, a bulky man and his team were moving cartloads of boxes into a U-Haul.

Hanna released herself from Caleb's grip. They watched, inquisitive. What was going on?

 **-IX-**

Mona lay on the green silk sheets of her queen-sized bed, Sue Grafton's S is for Silence in one hand, her laptop in the other. She was surrounded by all the things she loved, in the home that she cherished. But she hadn't felt this unease in a long, long time.

Mona had not slept a wink last night. Her hair was disheveled, her blouse was wrinkled, and her lack of makeup exposed the imperfections she otherwise worked so tirelessly to conceal. Her breath reeked. Her nails were uneven from her having bitten them.

"Knock, knock."

Mona was unceremoniously jolted out of her stupor.

"Mike! What are you doing here?"

"I haven't heard from you all day."

Mike's eyes were visibly bloodshot as well. He had been crying for his sister.

Mona shut her computer and the book. She tightly squinted her eyes.

"Oh, um… I haven't been doing much."

"This may be off-script, but… you look like crap."

Mona nodded solemnly. "You don't look much better."

Mike nodded. Silence.

"Let's go take a walk at Fairmount Park before I go see Aria again. Time for coffee and a change in shirt."

Mona chuckled apprehensively. "Yeah. That sounds… that sounds lovely." She came to it. "I'll meet you downstairs in a second, okay?"

Mike nodded, smiling, and made his way to the first story of the Vanderwaal house.

Making sure Mike had rounded the stairs, Mona pulled out her cell phone.

"I need your help. And I need it now."

 **-X-**

4:15 PM. It was darkening. It was just Alison and Emily. The two-story DiLaurentis house was quieter than it had been in a long time. The couple leaned on each other.

"We have to go back to school tomorrow, Em. It's barely the second week of class."

Emily grappled herself up.

"You're right. There's no way I'm going to get things done with varsity at this rate."

Alison reached out for her wife. "Relax. I didn't say that so you'd worry."

Emily nodded, her expression lightyears away. "You're right. I guess Paige has it under control."

Alison nodded, her gaze zoning out at something behind Emily, beyond the kitchen window. "Speak of the devil…"

Emily honed back in. She grabbed Alison, who was storming to the entrance. "Alison, stop. Now. She came to check on us." Alison stood still.

The doorbell rang. Paige stood with four containers of soup, two adult-sized, two child-sized. Emily opened.

"Paige, you really did not have to do all this."

Emily motioned for Paige to enter.

"It was nothing. You know me, I'm not the chef. Meg cooks all the time. Besides, I was worried when I didn't see you for two days in a row. What's going on?"

Alison's arms were crossed, and her expression stiff.

Paige looked at her. "Hi, Alison. I hope you like tomato basil."

Alison didn't make eye contact. "Thanks, Paige."

Emily took Paige by the arm. "We've really needed to be here for Aria. I don't know if you know, but Ezra was arrested."

Alison shot her wife a withering glare.

"Oh my God… how? Why?"

"We really don't know. But, he's been hospitalized because he was attacked in jail."

Paige shook her head, her eyes focused intently on the floor. "I can't believe things like this can go down in prison and no one does anything about it. It's like you're not safe anywhere."

It had been a harrowing seven-hour work day. Spencer's client had breached several rules of discretional conduct and she was not equipped to reprimand them. Spencer had been drafted to lead yet another intern committee. There wasn't enough coffee in Costa Rica to fuel her. Her mind was eons away.

Like so many years before, Spencer stared at herself in the mirror, hoping it would somehow resolve one of the many conflicts she found herself immersed in. She had decided to Uber her way home. She needed to find ways to reconcile with Toby. But to do that, she'd need to think.

She lowered herself onto her bed.

There was a loud thud from the stables.

Spencer jolted upright, making her way to the kitchen window. She positioned herself at an angle where she couldn't be seen.

Her half-brother was on the phone. Jason looked around himself as if he were being watched. He had clearly made his way out of his home to avoid Alison or Emily seeing him.

"The deal is off. You and I clearly aren't in agreement and there's too much at stake. You're on your own."

 **-XI-**

Caleb was alone at the Grille. He needed time to think about everything that was happening. To analytically dissect it and logically analyze the solution to all these problems, and generate the methods necessary to protect his wife and his daughter.

His cocktail didn't appetize him. He was too occupied stewing and brewing.

"Was it three days ago that you were in my apartment telling me how pissed you were that Hanna was keeping things from you?"

Caleb whipped around. Toby stood, a menacing grimace taking over his face.

"And now you're doing the same."

Caleb looked down.

"I thought we were in the same boat, Caleb."

Caleb shook his head. "We are."

"Really? Then why did you just go along with Spencer when she dragged you to the precinct? You didn't think it'd be a better idea to call me first?"

Caleb looked remorseful. But he had to emphasize the key point—sticking together.

"It was a matter of time, Toby. I don't know why Spencer contacted me first, but we had to do it then. We couldn't wait."

"I didn't expect this from you, Caleb."

"Well—"

"Don't, man."

Toby turned around. Caleb wasn't having it. He got up to his feet, and grabbed his friend by the arm.

"I didn't expect it from me either. Toby, we aren't helping anyone by keeping this going. I've already come to an agreement with Hanna. I'm hoping maybe you reached an agreement with Spencer, too?"

Toby stopped. Silence. He turned.

"Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"Then, let's have us make an agreement right now. I won't keep things hidden anymore."

Toby nodded, a sliver of a smile spreading over his typically stern face.

"Let's go to Alison's. They said they'd be going to the hospital soon."

The men made their way to their respective vehicles and drove off.

 **-XII-**

No sharp objects of any kind. Deaths via sharp objects were not an unheard of phenomena here. Especially in a nuthouse like this.

Alex loathed the wooden knitting needles provided by the staff. They were blunt and ineffective, and the scarf she was making looked more like a distended skirt.

"Damn it."

"Try slip-stitching. It makes the edges neater."

Alex looked up. Her mother stood over the common room bench.

Alex rolled her eyes and kept knitting.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Mary asked, occupying the empty space next to her daughter.

"Probably because I'm just yearning for you to drool like a hound dog about Spencie and Ali. I know you wish they came out of your jacked up womb and that I came out of Dear Aunt Jessie's."

Mary took the needle from her daughter's hand. "Don't you speak that way."

"You told them, didn't you? About Mona?"

Mary shook her head, solemnly staring into the distance.

"You asked me not to. I respected your wish."

Alex took the needle back.

"Alex, sweetie… what does Mona want from you?"

Alex scoffed, and in a swift motion, rose from the bench, towering in front of her mother. "Really, Mom? No. No, this is between me and her. There's a lot riding on this for me. And maybe even you. So you just shut your mouth. And don't say anything to anyone unless I tell you to. You'll see it'll just make things better."

Alex stomped to her cellblock, leaving her mother shocked by her irreverence.

 **-XIII-**

Alison, Emily, Hanna, Spencer, Toby and Caleb were congregated in the DiLaurentis living room. It was 7:02 PM.

"It's decided. This group of people right here, Aria included, can't keep things from each other anymore." Alison started.

Everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

Hanna was next. "Spence, have you or your mom heard from Melissa?"

Spencer rolled her eyes, and shook her head, her exasperation palpable. "God, not this again. No, Hanna."

Hanna looked at Caleb. "Today at HQ there was a moving van with boxes. They're taking Melissa's office apart."

Spencer lurched. "What?"

Caleb corrected her. "The receptionist told us Melissa's leaving her post as your mom's economic advisor. I asked her where she was and she didn't know."

"Wait, no, this doesn't make sense. Why would she stop working for my mom after all this time?"

"And why have you or her not heard from Melissa?"

Spencer shook her head. "My mom has to have heard something, but she's in Bradford and I can't talk to her right now."

"Something doesn't add up here. I know Melissa likes to leave town sometimes, but, like you said, Spence, this doesn't make sense." Toby replied.

"Spencer, we have to go visit Alex." Alison repeated herself for the second time that day.

No comment.

"Wait, hang on a minute, is that tomato basil?" Hanna nudged the unopened container of soup on the kitchen counter.

Alison rolled her eyes. "Eat up, Hanna. Parmigiano is in the fridge." Looking at Emily pointedly, she said, "I hate tomato soup."

Emily avoided her wife's gaze. "Spencer, you're stewing."

"Yeah… yeah, I am. When I arrived back at the barn after work, I saw Jason taking a call by the stables in between our houses. He was talking about some kind of deal. Ali, do you know who he could be talking to?"

Alison shook her head, clearly apathetic. "No. It's probably just some real estate thing though."

For the second time that day, the door to the DiLaurentis house opened with a bang.

Sopping wet from the rain, and clad in a down parka, stood Aria. No one had expected to see her.

"Aria? Come inside."

Trancelike, Aria moved slowly into the warm, snugly lit DiLaurentis kitchen.

"You look like you could use soup," started Hanna.

"Thanks, Han. It's fine."

A awkward, stiff silence ensued.

"You guys, I'm here to apologize. I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did. You guys have been nothing but there for us in our worst and… it was out of place to have flown off the handle like that."

Emily got out of her seat and placed a hand on Aria's shoulder. Aria continued.

"I also came to tell you that you were right. I…" Aria inhaled sharply. "I saw A at the hospital today while I was reading to Ezra. That's why I wouldn't leave until I could get Mike to watch over him."

"What do you mean you 'saw A'?"

"Someone in a hoodie lurking behind the glass pane was watching me. I screamed for the nurse and they escaped through the fire escape, like the nurse said happened yesterday. You guys, Ezra coded yesterday because of A."

And punctually, right on cue, five phones sounded off.

The looks exchanged spoke years of pent up dread and fear.

"Together."

In unison, the five girls pulled their phone out.

In unison, the five girls read the message they had received.

This isn't a board game to me anymore. It's not a dollhouse, and it's not a hidden lair.

It's life or deAth.

And your tombstones are marked.

Just for you.

\- A

"Oh my God…"

The door to the DiLaurentis house opened with another bang. At a speed no one would anticipate him being capable of, Mike sprinted into the house.

"Everyone, we have to get to the hospital now. It's code blue."

In an instant, the crew rose from their chairs and bolted outside into the blue Honda Odyssey of none other than Mona Vanderwaal, who was at the steering wheel.

"Mona?" Hanna was incredulous. Everyone exchanged glances that were a mix of weary and panic.

Mike turned around, Aria sobbing next to him.

"Mona's driving." He glared at the crowd of people stopped outside the car. "GET YOUR ASSES INSIDE."

They piled in. It was dreadfully silent except for the nervous drumming of fingers on the windowsill and steering wheel. Mona broke it.

"I'm sorry, Aria."

 **-XIV-**

A hooded figure was dutifully at work on a wooden desk that had been lovingly handcrafted.

The discount at the flower shop had been worth seeking out, indeed.

A hatchet cut the stems off of several bouquets.

Petals adorned a circular wreath.

It was beautiful.

A mesmerizing cornucopia of fauna.

A white banner with blue lettering.

My deepest, deepest condolences.


	8. Chapter 8

_**August 19, 2010**_

 _The brunette's head was throbbing. The placid music at the Hollis Bar, though clement towards her ears, was not serving to alleviate it. Having arrived back home as an outsider, as someone who had dared to trespass the box that everyone in Rosewood labelled "the world" was an insurmountable task, one for which she was currently paying a price._

 _Her delicate fingers embellished with vermillion nail polish were tensely clutching her black poplin skirt. Her other hand took towards lyrically tapping the wooden countertop. She raised her hand, raking her fingers through her straightened, dark chestnut head of hair. She could hear a glass being set down next to her. But she couldn't look. She'd faced too much judgment already._

" _You alright down there?"_

 _Aria inhaled. Could it be that this was happening to her? An all-around oddity? She was no jock, no diva, no academic decathlete. Why her? 'Compose yourself', she thought._

 _She turned to see the man who was addressing her. He had a mop of slightly unkempt brown hair, and a finely pronounced jawline. His blue eyes radiated warmth. Maybe even interest?_

" _I'm a bit jetlagged. I just got back from Europe."_

 _He set his glass down._

" _Where in Europe?"_

" _Iceland."_

 _A broad, endearing smile crept across his face. This was happening._

" _I spent some time in Reykjavik before I went to Amsterdam. It's a great city."_

 _The petite brunette nodded, smiling modestly, looking consciously down at her lap. She had stopped gripping her pleats._

" _So, you go to Hollis?"_

" _Just graduated, actually. I'm gonna start my first teaching job."_

 _Before she could regulate herself, the words tumbled out in a current of hopefulness._

" _Yeah, I think I'd like to teach."_

 _An acoustic sound, subtle and merciful to the ears, but filled with husky, harmonic voice, maybe a hint of melancholy, inched its way through the speakers. Aria looked up, her cheeks rosing as she broke out into an unhindered grin._

" _God, I love this song…"_

" _B-26."_

 _The brunette turned towards her conversation partner. Indeed she did. And so did he._

" _What's your major?"_

" _Well, I'm leaning towards English."_

 _The man grinned just like the girl in front of him had a moment ago._

" _That's what I'm teaching."_

 _Great minds really did think alike._

" _Well, and I write. But so far, it's mostly personal. Just for me."_

" _I'm impressed."_

 _Aria tilted her head. She had not expected this._

" _Why?"_

 _Her conversation partner rose from the wooden barstool two spots away from her. Without any reluctance or hesitation in his gait, he claimed the previously vacant seat next to her. Aria's hand clenched her skirt anew, but when she saw the tenderness in his gaze, it seemed that there was no reason to be fearful. There would be no judgment._

" _Well, I tried writing. I didn't get very far. But… you're lucky. If you're writing for yourself it's pure passion."_

 _Aria shook her head, directing her stare at her skirt. She couldn't accept any compliments._

" _Maybe you'd let me read something of yours?"_

 _Of hers?_

" _Yeah? You'd really want to?"_

" _Of course. You're smart, well-traveled… great taste in music… I'd like to know more about you."_

 _A glint of captivation passed over Aria's gaze, reciprocated by the stranger in front of her._

" _Yeah, I'd like to know more about you too."_

 **\- I -**

The six women and three men who had laden Mona's blue Honda pounded into the ground level room of the Philadelphia Mercy Hospital. The eagle-eyed receptionist swiftly looked up, and in a sweeping motion, made her way to meet them. No time to interrogate them.

"Ezra Fitz, follow me."

The crowd pushed itself into the elevator. Aria was shaking. It was clear she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Her white hand trembled as her arm hung onto her brother's.

"Ma'am, what happened?"

The receptionist turned to face Caleb, a look of consternation obscuring her visage.

"I'm on the ground floor, sir. I'm here to take you to him."

In one unforeseeably agile move, Aria leapt towards the other side of the elevator, jostling into Hanna, just as the elevator's bell rang and the doors swung open. Aria was the first. She sprinted, her friends and brother following in suit.

An intern with a face indicating a perpetual state of crestfallenness was standing outside of Room 104, sharply inhaling when she saw the stampede of people who had come to meet her, and lowering her tear-studded eyes to the floor.

"Where is he? What have you done with him?"

For a moment, Aria stopped. Mucus was running down the indentation between her nose and upper lip. She sniffled.

The intern met Aria's gaze.

"I am so sorry."

Aria shook her head in one powerful motion, her eyes reading pure denial. Without another word, she barged past the intern, almost knocking her to the side.

The staff inside the room rose to see her. They looked at each other, nodding curtly, and stepped to the side of the hospital bed. Ezra lay, his hands folded across his chest, and blue eyes wide open. An unmistakable smile was spread from cheek to cheek.

The electrocardiogram was powered off, and a nurse with a face of cold stone unplugged it, rolling it out of the room.

Was he at peace?

"NO!"

Aria was a paper doll. Her delicate waist gave in, as her body was snapped in two by the momentum of the wind, she faltered, head falling to the ground, knees already there.

Her fragile body was convulsing, as staff stepped to the outskirts of the small medical room, leaving Aria alone, on the floor, her head in her palpitating hands. Screaming.

Another ear-piercing cry. A barrage of unintelligible words. Who could they have been directed at?

Mike shoved past Toby, seizing his possessed sister by the arm.

From the hallway outside of 104, Emily's whimper evolved into a full-fledged sob. No one was there to hold her. A single tear slid down Toby's cheek, and Caleb looked as if he'd been gutted. Alison and Hanna were wailing, and Spencer, who was still analyzing what had just unfolded, had her hand tightly pressed over her mouth, her large, dilated brown eyes the size of crystals, tears barely starting to shoot forth.

All the while, Aria screeched. An unrelenting, unwavering howl that had anyone on the level of the intensive care unit turn their gaze.

Ella and Byron stumbled forth to join the crowd, Ella looking and sounding as if she were seizing, and Byron's hands pressed to his stomach as if he were trying to resuscitate himself.

From behind Spencer, Mona drew her breath in. She turned her head so as to meet everyone's gaze. No one met hers, as everyone, Mike included, was drawn to Room 104. Without so much as another glance, she turned away from the crowd, darting towards the elevator.

Not a soul had seen her go.

 _A universe or two away, a single fall leaf fell to the ground from the maidenhair tree, oscillating in the light, graceful breeze._

 _On top of the cascade stood a man, his arms extended, a glowing smile contorting his deftly chiseled facial features._

 _A lone bird chirred, flying towards the blue-eyed stranger, perching itself on his shoulders._

 _The distinct sound of footsteps cracking fallen branches in two caused the man to turn to meet whoever it could be._

 _His hand extended to briefly cover his mouth, before joyous drops were sown in his eyes, clouding his field of view. He laughed, incredulously._

 _From the heavens above, a flock of birds identical to the one nuzzled against his mop of hair plunged to witness this celestial reunion._

 _After all this time._

" _I knew I'd be seeing you again."_

 _ **January 23, 2012**_

 _The lone brunette reclined on the bench to the Rosewood Bus Stop, her miniature cell phone in one hand. The other hand took to twisting her watchband until the metal buckle prodded her tender wrist, causing her to stop._

 _This very moment would determine the very course of her future. Would he come and hold her tight? Or would he not, and let her go?_

 _It was pouring, and the cover provided by the bus stop was all but insufficient. Her hair was drenched, and she had foolishly not brought an umbrella._

" _Aria?"_

 _She jerked up. 100 feet away, a man, one hand on the roof of his car, another over his eyes, which were squinting arduously to decipher the identity of the woman he had come to conquer amidst the darkness._

 _Without so much as a single hesitation, the brunette rose from the bench, leaving her purse exactly where it was._

 _A vehicle screeched to a halt._

 _But it didn't matter._

 _In that moment, nothing else did._

' _They were immortal', she thought, she knew, as she embraced him, allowing her moistened lips to meet his dried ones._

 **-II-**

Three days had passed. Three prolonged, insufferable days. Days where the girls and those who loved them were at liberty to torment themselves with their thoughts and prayers.

Was it their fault?

The tall, poised brunette stared at herself in the mirror, sniffling subtly.

The tears had subsided.

She had nothing left.

Behind her, Emily, Alison, and Hanna were perched on the queen-sized bed, their usually alert, conscious expressions having allowed themselves to be taken over by a perpetual, unforgiving fog.

Spencer adjusted the minimalistic, white pearl necklace she had selected for herself. The subtle, toned black dress complemented her features perfectly. She pinned her hair back, allowing it to run over her shoulders, twitching lightly as it did so.

She lowered herself to fit her close-toed, black flats.

She was prepared.

She turned to look at the women on her bed, who were already dressed in individually tailored, black dresses that also enhanced their physiques, their hair elegantly done. Alison wore black boots up to her kneecaps. Emily donned a pair of slim, threaded leggings. Hanna had a pair of black sunglasses concealing her eyes. She didn't need more questions. The women's gazes were directed at the Persian rug sprawled over Spencer's spacious bedroom floor.

Spencer sniffled lightly before clearing her throat.

"Um… it's at three, right?"

In unison, the three women met her stare.

Alison nodded wordlessly.

It was eleven. There was nothing left to do. Nothing but wait.

Spencer slipped her flats off, and sat aimlessly next to her cousin on the bed for the hours to come.

A vigil indeed it was.

 _ **March 19, 2012**_

 _Aria felt nauseous as she meandered through the maze, her hair tightly wound and her dress threatening to glue itself onto one of the many branches jutting out into the windy, narrow walkway._

 _She stopped, looking around herself. She was in the heart of the maze, surrounded by mirrors. She could see herself at every conceivable angle. Was this where she was supposed to be?_

 _A hand, firm but caressing, placed itself on her shoulder._

 _As Aria turned to meet the man for whom she'd risked everything, it dawned on her. It was time for the world to know. And whether they approved or not didn't matter._

 _She turned away from the man, allowing him to fondly stroke her neck, bury his face in her exposed shoulder. A rosy smile exposed the fullness of her cheeks, as she extended her arms and curled her fingers in his, and turned back in his direction._

 _He extended his hand, taking off his mask, letting out a wave of stifled air in the form of a breath. It was her turn. He reached for her face._

" _This is our first dance. I want to see you."_

 **-III-**

Mike had spent the last couple of nights in his childhood bedroom in the Montgomery house.

He had only seen Aria once a day. When she exited her bedroom to use the restroom.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were set outside of her door, frequently returned uneaten, and any pleas to see her were rejected, condolences were not accepted, kisses were not exchanged, and embraces were not reciprocated.

The door to her bedroom was permanently locked. Her parents could hear sniffling, and the shedding of mournful tears long into the early hours of the morning.

His sister had become a tortured soul, suffocating under the storm of pictures and words that had been haunting her for the last three days.

In the living room, Byron sat, slouched forward, resting his chin on his hands. His son sat across from him.

There were no words exchanged.

Ella made her way in from the kitchen. Her face was red and bloated.

"We… we have to make our way to the church."

Byron glanced at his wife.

"I don't know how we'll get her down."

Mike's mouth gaped slightly as he stole a glance at the stairwell.

"I don't think you need to worry about that, Dad."

On half-step, clothed in an ankle-length black dress with long sleeves, black flats, and a black veil cloaking her slightly built head, stood his sister.

Byron and Ella whipped around, immediately rising from their seats. As if Mike could sense his sister couldn't deal with being overwhelmed by affection, he set a warning hand on his mother's arm.

"Honey…" Byron started.

Aria raised her gloved hand, and lifted her veil to expose her face. She was dour. A piece of her had been fractured, never to return.

"Like Mom said. We have to get to the church."

Without so much as another glance at her family, Aria made her way down the stairs, past her seated family, and stepped outside, onto the sunlit porch, rendering her parents and brother speechless.

 _ **March 11, 2013**_

 _Aria was seated on the couch of the apartment she had labelled her second home. Where she went when her friends were unable to fathom her concerns, and when her family was destroying her from the inside out. The man who she could confidently tell anything, who would listen to every complaint, every subtlety, was across from her._

 _It wasn't a happy evening._

" _Aria, if I can't teach high school in this town, or college, what's left? It's what I do."_

 _Aria looked down. Ezra extended a hand to touch her shoulder._

" _And I need to find a place where I can do it."_

 _Aria inhaled sharply, her breath quivering._

" _Well, wherever that is, they're lucky to have you."_

 _Ezra took her by the hand. Her hazel eyes were glistening. His hand met her shoulder._

" _Do you have any idea how much I love you?"_

 **-IV-**

At 2:30 PM, the smoke-gray sedan pulled to a stop outside a precisely modeled house on the outskirts of Philadelphia. Toby looked up, sliding his phone into his front pocket, and made his way to the car's passenger door.

"Thanks for the ride, man."

Caleb nodded.

"We'll be at Spence's within fifteen minutes. The service starts at three."

 _ **March 18, 2014**_

 _Shaking and trembling at everything that had transpired, and still reeling from the reverberations of the gunshot that had fired, and the gunman climbing the adjacent apartment roof before slamming the door, Aria wheeled around._

 _The man who had stalked her, who had used her, who she didn't even know, stood opposite her, facing the starlit skies._

" _Ezra?"_

 _Pause._

" _It's so beautiful."_

 _Ezra turned. Aria shrieked, as she saw the crimson red pool of blood increasing in size on his white shirt by the second._

" _NO!"_

 _The man who she didn't even know, a stranger at this point, collapsed onto the concrete. Aria fell to the floor beside him, flipping him onto his stomach so that his blue, fading eyes stared into hers._

 _A stranger, yes. Her love, the man who she lived for, the one man she'd do anything for beyond reason and beyond doubt, yes._

" _I'm sorry… you stay awake, you hear me?! No, don't you dare close your eyes!"_

" _HELP!"_

 **-V-**

Toby took a sip of the coffee his girlfriend had halfheartedly set forth. Too black? Yes. Time to comment? No.

He turned. Caleb was rubbing Hanna's back. Alison and Emily had risen. Emily looked fraught, and it was apparent she was on the verge of tears.

Toby exchanged glances with Alison, who showed him her handkerchief and nodded. He nodded in return.

Spencer was staring outside of the window, her brows furrowed.

"Spencer?"

Without looking at her boyfriend, Spencer raised a finger, indicating that he should be silent.

"Guys."

Silence. Everyone's attention shifted to Spencer, who turned quickly.

"It's Jason," she whispered.

Sure enough, her half-brother stood, hand on the railing of the DiLaurentis house, engaged in an animated phone conversation with someone.

Emily rose. N ow was not the time. Her jaw trembled, as she approached Spencer, who suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Spencer. We are about to go Ezra's funeral. We haven't seen Aria in days because she hasn't answered our calls, texts, and Mike keeps turning us away." Getting in Spencer's face, Emily continued. "This is Aria's husband. If you think it's time to play Nancy Drew, you could not be more wrong," she spat out, in a hateful tone that had an astonished Spencer looking to side like she'd been slapped.

Alison took her wife by the arm, before shaking her head at Spencer. "Spencer, it's not a good time."

"But, you guys, if—"

"Spencer! We can't do this right now, don't you get it? He's DEAD!" Hanna lurched forward, out of Caleb's grasp. She was seething as well.

"Come on, guys, it's 2:50," she hissed, grabbing Alison, who had Emily in tow. Caleb followed, casting a final glance at Spencer.

"Spence, maybe it's best we just focus on the present."

Toby extended his hand, placing it on his girlfriend's shoulder.

Spencer had tears in her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess…"

"Come on. Let's meet the others." Toby shepherded Spencer, who took one final look at Jason, who had hung up the phone and was now staring in the distance, out the door.

 **-VI-**

 _ **January 27th, 2015**_

 _The beige, dilapidated couch sank not only underneath the weight of its loving occupants, but under the burden of the conversation about to take place._

 _Ezra's hand stroked his. Something was concerning him. It was evident._

 _Was the woman next to him oblivious? He'd have to find out. In a swift motion, he reached into his messenger bag, pulling out a carefully wrapped gift, and extending it to Aria, who took it, a shadow of wariness crossing her face._

" _What is this?"_

" _Something to celebrate your getting into Talmadge."_

 _Her delicate fingers took to gracefully unwrapping the package. Her eyes widened, and her ruby red lips opened in surprise._

" _It's beautiful. Thank you so much."_

 _The man next to her extended his arm so that his hand touched her shoulder, and inched closer. A deep sigh._

" _I remember how excited I was when I got into Hollis. There are so many amazing adventures ahead of you and I… I don't want you to miss out on a single one. The way you missed out on high school because of me."_

 _This had struck a chord. Aria moved her lover's hand off her shoulder._

" _Hey, Ezra, you know I don't actually feel that way."_

 _Ezra cast his blue eyes to the ground. Dolefully, he shook his head._

" _You couldn't have written all that if it didn't feel true. It rang true for a reason…"_

 _Aria started to shake her head, teardrops budding in her hazel eyes._

" _If we stay together, you might grow to resent me… take time for yourself… at least think about it."_

 _Her mouth opened. No words came out._

" _I will…"_

 _ **-VII-**_

The elfin brunette's eyes were glued to the wood of the coffee table at the Rosewood Starbucks. She wore a black dress, and her hair looked more sophisticated than it had in a long time. It was apparent that she was lost in her thoughts, as she stirred her latte with more than one rod, and allowed it to get saturated with cane sugar.

At least it wasn't fructose.

She shut her eyes. How easy it could be to fall asleep just then and there.

"You needed to talk to me."

Mona's eyes fluttered open, and she licked her lips skittishly before regaining her composure and turning around to meet the man who'd approached her. A wry smirk came over her.

"I didn't think you were ever going to show."

She stepped forward, and mockingly looked around herself as if someone were lurking behind the curtain.

"You're taking a huge risk, Hermie. Coming here to see little old me?"

Lucas scoffed, and he looked to the side.

"What do you want from me, Mona?"

Mona's smirk didn't fade. She nodded. "I like the thick skin. It suits you better."

Lucas put his hand on his hip.

"You know, I haven't told Hanna about what you were really up to those two years in France."

Mona simpered, as her conversation partner continued.

"And that's just because I know what you're capable of."

A faked expression of horror, as Mona put her hand on Lucas' shoulder. He brushed it off, contemptfully.

"I'm not the only one with skeletons in my closet."

Lucas tilted his head.

"You think I don't know why Alex was able to kidnap Spencer _and_ Ezra in one go?"

Mona leaned even further, whispering something to him unintelligibly. He went pale as Mona leaned back.

"And because we both care about the same people, you're going to help me take care of this. And you're going to do it now."

Mona turned around, taking an archaic, clunky laptop out of her purse, and setting it out on the counter in front of them, motioning for Lucas to come closer as her typing speed neared 80 wpm and the requested URL emerged.

Bingo.

She pushed the laptop towards her partner-in-crime as he looked at her, wordlessly shaking his head, wondering not for the first time what he'd gotten himself into.

After pressing her cream matte lips together, Mona shoved her chubby stick in her purse, swinging it over her shoulder.

"I have a funeral to get to."

She turned around, her expression changing from smug to empathetic. Only Mona could do that.

"Watch your back, Lucas."

A tender smile slithered over her face as she stepped into the jet black cab that had pulled up next to her.

 _ **July 26, 2016**_

 _Aria had trouble deciding whether the odor that was greeting her nostrils was cilantro or coriander, but she knew that the aroma was delectable._

 _Her hazel eyes reflected the temperate blaze of the candles that had taken to adorning every conceivable nook and cranny within The Brew. As perplexed as she was, it was mesmerizing, especially amidst this darkness._

 _As she traversed the winding stairwell, a sense of awe and mourning passed over her._

 _It was as if a soul had died, and the candles lit its way to the afterworld._

 _She turned the key into the lock to her apartment, and set her purse on the armchair._

 _Pitch darkness illuminated by the phosphorescence of elegantly lit candles._

" _You look…"_

 _The brunette inhaled sharply, wheeling around to face the man who had addressed her. A baffled chuckle betraying a hint of angst._

" _Confused?"_

 _Ezra stepped forth from the shadows._

" _I was going to say you look beautiful."_

 _Aria blushed, lowering her gaze._

" _What's going on?"_

 _Ezra ventured forward. He couldn't be treading on eggshells…right? He cleared his throat. Aria's ajar hazel eyes indicated a perpetual question mark._

" _Well… I'm gonna talk… a little bit at least. And you're going to listen, and… and then it'll be your turn to talk."_

 _Ezra's hand wrung the other. He had been waiting for this moment as long as he could recall._

" _You told me once a long time ago that you could never imagine your life without me, and… I told you I wanted you in mine and we'd figure something out." Ezra inhaled pointedly. Was it passion getting the best of him? "Then we spent years apart. A world apart." It was sheer passion. "Five years later, you walked in the door after all that time, and it felt like that last flat stretch of track of a roller coaster ride, and it comes to a stop where your stomach is flipping out and your knees are weak… but you can breathe again."_

 _Ezra stopped venturing forward. The distance between them had decreased enough._

" _That's when I knew… I want you in my life, Aria. For the rest of my life. I don't ever want to let you go."_

 _For a split second, Aria was in the eye of a hurricane. It was now or never that she could alter her destiny once and for all._

" _Ezra?"_

" _Wait. I have one more thing to say."_

 _Ezra knelt, gently caressing a black velveteen box he had retrieved out of the dust, positioning it as close as he could possibly muster to her finely carved hands._

" _Aria Marie Montgomery, will you marry me?"_

 **-VIII-**

In a single-file line, four women, one man in back and another in front, crossed the leaf-scattered avenue that led to the church.

Emily was trembling. The last time she had been here was for their forever after. The happiness that had been promised to them, betrothed to them, and the same happiness that was… gone. Just like that.

Caleb stopped as he reached the steep stairs to the church, and turned around. Everyone met him at the bottom, their gazes downcast.

It was practically time.

A stout woman in a black hat emerged from the scarcely illuminated sanctuary, bearing elegantly printed pamphlets. A weak, feeble smile came across her face as she walked towards them.

"Thank you for coming. The service is about to commence, and then we are to proceed to the cemetery in back. The family has requested to have the burial right after."

Spencer nodded.

In the single file line they had proceeded through earlier, they ambled to the elegy of the organ, making their way to the vacant pew three rows behind the front one.

Emily did a double take.

"Where's Aria?" She whispered, directing her bloodshot eyes at her wife.

Alison guided her into the pew, and waited for the rest to join them before pointing to the far opposite side of the church. Next to Ella, Byron, and Mike, whose gazes were directed to the floor, sat Aria, her face uncovered by the veil on her head.

She hadn't acknowledged them, but her eyes had seen enough. She wasn't crying, and unlike the girls, didn't seem to have handkerchiefs at her disposal.

"Should we…?" Hanna started, motioning towards Aria.

As if he had heard her from the other side of the church, Mike turned his head to see his sister's friends looking soulfully, and shook it gently.

"No. If Aria wanted our company, she'd come here. She's in mourning right now. We don't have a choice. We _have_ to let her be."

Spencer took Hanna by the arm, guiding her into the pew, and squeezing Toby's hand with the other.

Spencer turned around, examining her parameters. The church was filled with gloom, which was to be expected. Old colleagues of Ezra's, from Hollis, from Rosewood High, coworkers at Ezra's writing agency, Principal Hackett, college classmates. Behind them, the girls' parents were there, as was Ezra's mother, Dianne, whose soulless eyes had deadened. Next to her sat Wesley, whispering something to her, and squeezing her hand. On the other side of Dianne was an elderly couple. Lyle and Frances Springer. Ezra's grandparents.

Scattered throughout rows behind Wesley were Paige McCullers, a blonde who presumably was her wife, Jenna Marshall, and of course, Jason DiLaurentis.

On the side opposite the girls, the pews were packed. Spencer could see a blonde woman in her early thirties with a dejected-looking boy who looked to be thirteen or fourteen.

"Maggie… and Malcolm?"

A row behind Maggie was none other than Jackie Molina, and two rows behind her was Ezra's roommate, Hardy. Sabrina sat next to him, wiping tears from her eyes.

For the most part, the pews were packed with distant members of Aria's family, as Ezra's only consisted of his brother, mother, and grandparents.

Ezra was popular in life and death.

After taking in her surroundings, Spencer turned around, and saw that the tears were flowing out of Emily's eyes, Alison's hand on her shoulder. She stretched herself over Hanna's lap, and squeezed her friend's hand.

"He was loved, Emily. Don't you ever forget that."

As if on cue, the priest, an elderly, bearded man clad in a black robe, commenced.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…"

 _ **June 27, 2017**_

 _That same priest had born witness to times most buoyant, and now times most treacherous. The light of the chapel's chandelier bounced from the spindly wire frame of his spectacles, as he adjusted them to best be able to see the sights beholding him._

 _The statue of the Virgin Mary and the angels above him smiled, their rosy cheeks painting the atmosphere above the devoted spectators a tranquil white._

" _In the name of love, loyalty, and trust. But above all, for friendship."_

 _He had done his part. It was their turn._

" _I, Aria, take thee Ezra, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, to love and to cherish… till death do us part."_

 _She was a beautiful woman. The painting before him seemed impregnable. The muse extended her arm to the privileged groom in her grasp._

" _I, Ezra, take thee, Aria, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish… till death do us part."_

 _ **\- IX -**_

The service had been onerous, and Emily's quiet sobs throughout were incessant. The four girls' hands were sore from having clutched each others' throughout. Toby and Caleb were stock silent.

It was four in the afternoon, and the wind was setting in, as in a voiceless, single file line, the mourners filed out of the chapel and into the churchyard leading to the hidden cemetery.

Not a bird chirped, and the Northern red oaks characteristic of the yard had lost their splendor, their hues muted.

Aria's hands clutched her brother's arms, as he cautiously ambulated his way to the cemetery, his gaze on the grass. She looked feeble, and her face gaunt as her veil blew in the wind behind her.

She had not said a word to the girls, or to anyone.

They came to a stop.

The shiny black casket was lowered to the ground.

The preacher had started reciting verses and hymns, but none of the girls were listening.

It would soon be their turn to shovel dirt in.

Would they be able to?

They truly didn't know.

"Come on." Spencer took Hanna by the arm, Emily and Alison following.

"From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust…"

"Goodbye, Ezra…" Alison whispered. The girls looked at her. She looked back, and then down to the casket beneath them.

Alison handed the shovel to Hanna, who did her job, and then handed it to Emily. Spencer was last.

 **\- X-**

Alex had etched the number into her skin with a pen, and whenever she showered, made as sure as she could that the blue ink she had used wouldn't run off.

Those seven digits were her lifeline.

Once again, seizing the communal phone from the inmate before her, and grimacing, she punched her number in.

She sighed as she was sent to voicemail.

"Look, I'm worried. I haven't seen you in a few days."

She paused, looking around herself.

"One thing I learned from you was how to hack. It's working to my advantage. I can hack my way in and out of the system here. You would seriously scoff at how easy it is."

Alex chuckled more to herself than anything.

"I would say call me back, but you can't, obviously. So, just answer next time I call you. Please."

Before hanging up, she finished.

"I'll see you soon."

A gentle smile transformed Alex's usual expressionless, blank slate of a face, as she hung up the phone, running her slim hand through her dark brown hair as she made her way to her cell.

 **\- XI -**

By this point, the sky had darkened, and the preacher had stopped talking. The mourners had segregated themselves into their distinct groups.

Toby and Caleb had returned to the church.

Emily stood, rocking herself back and forth in front of an oak. Shoveling the dirt had cost her.

Alison approached her.

"Em…"

Emily gasped, startled. Quickly, Alison wrapped her arm around her wife's shoulders.

"It's me. It's just me."

"I keep thinking… burying him… I… I can't…"

Alison buried herself into her wife.

"I didn't think it'd come to this, Em."

Spencer and Hanna slid up to the grieving couple.

Emily let herself loose from Alison's grip.

"I'm sorry, Spence. For the way I snapped at you. I shouldn't have."

Spencer shook her head. "Don't apologize, Emily."

It was silent. Just four mourners under the oak.

Footsteps.

Crackling.

Alison gasped.

Someone was here.

Alison twisted around to see who'd approached her. The other girls' mouths were agape, as they stood, entranced.

"Aria?"

A woman with a veil covering her face had slid up behind them, unnoticed. Her arm was extended, and her hand was firmly coiled around Alison's wrist.

Her grip was forceful.

Alison gulped. This wasn't normal.

"Aria?" She repeated.

No response.

It was then that Spencer gasped. Hanna and Emily followed.

Aria was at least 300 feet away from them, next to Wesley, clutched onto Mike's arm, staring vacantly at the headstone that'd been created for her husband. Her veil, identical to the one worn by the woman in front of them, was lifted, exposing her face.

There was no way Aria was the woman in front of them at that very minute.

"Alison…"

Collectedly, the woman in front of them, one hand still seizing Alison's wrist, lifted her other gloved hand to reveal the face beneath the veil.

Alison shrieked, as she saw… herself?

Hector Lime's handiwork.

"Oh my God…"

She tried jerking her wrist out of the woman's grasp, but the force being exerted was too strong.

"Let me go."

The woman's grip didn't lessen. Alison could feel the bones at the base of her thumb throbbing. They would break at any minute. She cringed, her teeth pressed against each other to restrain any ensuing screech.

"PLEASE! Please, let go of my arm."

It was then that Emily came to her senses.

Without so much as a second thought, she lunged forward from behind her wife. Like a recoiling viper, the woman tossed Alison's wrist back, and Alison shook it, grimacing from the pain that had been inflicted. The woman threw the veil over her face, and proceeded to sprint. But Emily was unstoppable.

At a breakneck speed, she pursued the veiled stranger, her fingers inches away from snagging her dress.

That was until she tripped over a wrongfully placed oak.

Emily yelped, attracting the attention of congregating mourners. Two crimson droplets that indicated an open gash had presented themselves on her forearm.

Not happening.

She scrabbled herself into a semi-standing position, only to fall again, as the black hem of her dress had been caught on a protruding branch.

"Shit!"

The crowd below her murmured, vexed at the spectacle. She could see Ezra's mother shaking her head in distaste.

Had nobody seen the woman?

It was too late. The panting of her approaching friends became audible.

Spencer started, stopping to collect her breath, her hand over her chest.

"She's gone, Emily. It's too late."

On prompt, four phones sounded off.

Hanna winced.

There would be no time to exchange alarmed looks. Emily had gotten herself unstuck, and had joined her friends, though her eyes were glued on the border of the woods, where the woman _must_ have disappeared into.

In unison…

He knew too much.

"And it's all your fault."

The girls wheeled around. Behind them, Aria, her phone cradled in her tremoring palm, a trail of dried tears on her sunken in cheek, stood.

She had read the rest of the text out loud.

"-A."

 **\- XII -**

The unmistakable wingspan of a barred owl dimmed the light of the full moon as a hooded figure approached the gray granite headstone.

The ignition of a limousine beneath the cemetery was on, and the engine was running.

This would have to be a quick stop.

A red envelope was laid in front of the flowers sprouting in front of the plaque.

The hooded figure extended a gloved hand, affectionately caressing the markings, and the etched name, date of birth, and date of death of the deceased.

The telltale sound of sniffling was to be heard.

"I will avenge you both… brother."

Miles away, the bell tolled for midnight.


	9. Chapter 9

_**-I-**_

Emily could feel the sharp, wooden frame of the sofa protruding, jutting into her thigh. Her sensitivity augmented by the caffeine she'd inhaled at 5 AM that very morning. Uncomfortably, she shifted to get as much of the corduroy covering underneath her as she could.

"I can't imagine the suffering Aria is experiencing at this very minute."

Emily didn't make eye contact with the older woman seated in front of her, notepad in hand. Dr. Sullivan, who sat cross-legged on an old, shook her head. She'd have to shed her tears in private.

Emily wrung her hands and fidgeted in her seat.

"Emily… you five girls are easily the clients I've seen for the longest stretch of time."

The brunette stopped shuffling. The therapist in front of her sighed deeply.

"You came back here to deal with the trauma you'd experienced in South Carolina."

Emily stuck her head out as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"And I can't help but notice a vicious pattern here. Every time you girls have come here, it's because someone, an outside force brought you in this direction."

Silence.

"I guess what I'm trying to ask is… does this pattern hold true to this day?"

Emily lowered her gaze.

Another sigh.

"Look, Emily, I understand your primary concern is to help your friend, but these sessions are also designed to help you process—"

Emily jerked up.

"Dr. Sullivan. At the moment, I have a friend whose trauma makes mine look pointless. I can't sit here and stew."

In a swift motion, she rose from her seat, brushing off her thighs and pulling her purse up.

"Emily—"

"Thank you, Dr. Sullivan."

Without so much as another glance at her therapist, Emily marched out of the office, leaving Dr. Sullivan speechless.

 **-II-**

Hanna leaned forward, looking at herself in the mirror on the DiLaurentis kitchen table. The mischievous spark had drained itself from her fierce blue eyes. Her hand trembling, she picked up a concealer bottle, opening it, and dabbing the sagging bags beneath her eyes that had been produced by the all-night vigil they'd had.

Next to her, Alison lay a hand on her arm.

"I have, um… I have to go back to school today. Can I…"

Alison didn't need to finish her sentence. Wordlessly, Hanna extended the concealer bottle, leaning back into her seat.

The door to the DiLaurentis home crashed open, and Emily bounded in.

"I'm sorry that I'm late."

Spencer put down her cup.

"How was your session, Emily?"

Emily shook her head, indicating her lack of interest in that particular topic. Shooting a glare at Alison, she replied, "Pointless."

No response.

Caleb, who had been sitting noiselessly next to his wife, cleared his throat. He looked somewhat anxious.

"So this is it then? You're back to where you were in high school?"

Spencer jolted. Toby tensed.

"No. No, Caleb, we're not."

As if to articulate her point, the brunette rose from her wooden chair. All eyes were directed on her. The bags protruded from her large brown eyes, but she had a point to make.

"Um…" she cleared her throat. "Whoever did this to us… to Aria… isn't A. At least not the A who spent their high school years torturing us."

Without looking up, and with a note of hopelessness in her voice, Hanna interjected.

"What are you saying, Spencer."

"I'm saying that we're dealing with someone who has no remorse. Someone without a semblance of a conscience. I'm saying that whoever this is, and whatever their motives are… they have no qualms about taking down anyone in their way."

Silence.

"You guys, A played cat and mouse, but the worst thing they ever did to a body was move it. This person killed in cold blood."

Spencer inhaled sharply. Would the tears start again?

"I'm saying that Ezra died because…"

"Because he knew the game wasn't over."

Toby had finished his girlfriend's sentence.

At that very moment, Alison rose from her chair, her voice fraught with emotion. "We've suffered enough. How many people's lives have we shattered to deserve this? What has Aria done to deserve this? Why would someone go out of their way to bring us down again?"

Caleb shook his head. "I'm guessing we'll learn the motive in bits and pieces."

Emily inhaled sharply. "Spencer, what if Alex… could this be Alex?"

Spencer stared listlessly. Then, a simultaneously vociferous and lifeless laugh emerged from her throat. Everyone was startled. This reaction didn't make sense.

"It's a little hard to get people to do your bidding from jail, Emily."

Emily opened her mouth.

"And if you're saying that I have another long-gone sister out there, by all means, go out and get the pitchfork from the shed." She leaned forward. "I don't care anymore."

Spencer reclined in her chair, her mouth pinched and arms crossed.

"Well, I do."

Alison had spoken again. "Whether you're coming with me or not, Spencer, I'm visiting Alex."

Spencer chuckled mirthlessly. Toby jabbed her in the arm, a scolding expression on his face. "Fine. Whatever, Ali. Don't forget the monocle and the pipe."

Toby started. "Spencer…"

"You guys were right yesterday. I _can't_ be playing detective right now." She rose from her seat, pulling out her purse.

Hanna stopped her.

"Don't you see, Spencer? Finding out who this is is our only option."

"There's one of us down. There's a lot more at stake than just us, guys. Think about our families."

Caleb shook his head. Silence.

Toby reinitiated. "Who was that at the funeral yesterday?"

Instinctively, Alison's hand drifted to her wrist, which was still sore. Emily tensed, her eyes blazing a fire upon recalling how close she had been to capturing their assailant, and how she had failed.

"We don't know, Toby."

Hanna started. "I can't believe we thought it was Aria."

Spencer had rejoined the group. "Whoever it was, they dressed identically to Aria for a reason. The mask she wore is a clear message."

The seated crowd exchanged looks that spoke volumes of powerlessness. Spencer leaned forward once again.

"Don't you see, guys? The game never ended."

 **-III-**

Mona was rolled over to her side. Halfheartedly, she extended an exhausted arm, and took to twisting the hexagonal brass knob of the drawer on the dark wooden nightstand next to her.

Sniffling.

Mona let go, and rolled over to the other side, where she could decipher the outline of her boyfriend in the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. Mike stood in front of the mirror, his hands on his shorn head. She could hear him inhale and exhale as he rubbed his hands over his scalp.

After five seconds, Mona twisted herself up, and made her way to the bathroom, her footsteps gentle on her carpeted flooring.

"Honey?"

Mike turned around.

"Go back to sleep, Mona."

Mona shook her head, her honey brown eyes large. She leaned herself against the towel rack on the door.

"Not when you're like this, Mike."

Mike sighed, drawing his breath in. He had no response. Mona continued, walking towards her lover.

"I… I don't know what I can say or do to make a difference, Mike…"

Mike sniffled.

"You can't, Mona."

Mona looked to the ground as if she'd been struck. Mike sighed again.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I— I don't ever want to shut you out."

Mona allowed her gaze to raise itself.

"My sister will never be herself again. Do you know how it feels to know that? Do you know how painful it is to live in that reality?"

Speechlessly, Mona shook her head.

Mike's chin began quavering, and his blue eyes, flowing with tears, met Mona's.

"I just want to know how it happened. How he died. Out of nowhere. Just like that."

Mona opened her mouth. No words.

She strode forward, enveloping her boyfriend, who buried himself into her shoulder, in an embrace.

"Don't cry…"

 **-IV-**

Five minutes had elapsed since Spencer had dropped the bombshell. So it never really had ended, had it? All that talk about "endgame" was for nothing? They had chosen to pacify themselves in the most oblivious way imaginable for nothing?

Emily broke the overwhelming silence.

"This doesn't take away from what originally happened."

She rose out of her chair in an elegant movement.

"Ezra's gone, you guys. And so is a part of our best friend."

Alison shook her head sullenly.

"I tried seeing her yesterday, Em. No one was home."

"So did I."

"So did I."

Spencer and Hanna looked at one another.

"She isn't responding to her messages either."

Spencer assumed a forlorn expression. "You know she won't want to see us, right? Like Emily said, she's broken. I didn't want to see anyone when I thought I lost you."

She reached her hand out to Toby, who looked to the ground.

Emily shook her head. "When I find out who did this to Aria, I'll kill them myself."

No one had a response.

Hanna'd had enough.

"Okay, I don't care if she barracudas her door with trashy magazines and tissues, and if I have to shoot her TV screen in to see her. I'm going to their house. Now. And you guys are coming with me."

She extended one hand for Caleb. The pair exited the DiLaurentis house.

"I think the word is barri—" Spencer started.

As if she hadn't heard her friend, Hanna twisted around and yelled, kicking the car bumper. "Let's GO, guys!"

Her word was law. Everyone rose, piling into Hanna's white Toyota Prius.

 **-V-**

Cuffed by the female guard, Alex strode forward into the visitation room. Upon seeing who had come, she pinched herself in frustration, as she was seated in front of her caller.

"You again."

Jason nodded so as to rehash her point. He leaned forward.

"My favorite color is dark blue, I absolutely hate anything resembling a dog, I drool on my pillow, I think the way you eat your cereal is repulsive, I'm hypersensitive towards figs, and I played the clarinet in high school marching band."

Alex stared listlessly.

An awkward grin spread across Jason's face. "Gotcha there, huh?"

A smirk in response. Alex looked to the side, biting her underlip. Was that shyness?

"Alex, I meant what I said. I'm here to help you."

Alex shook her head.

"I know that all the shit you did wasn't who you really were once upon a time. I know there's more to you than that." He drew his breath in. "And I know the same went for Charlotte."

Alex gulped.

Jason took that silence to proceed. He reached into his pocket, taking out two items. A crinkled photograph, and a wrinkled sheet of hole-punched, college-ruled notebook paper.

He shoved forward the photograph.

The crinkled photograph bore Charlotte's headshot. A playful, lighthearted smirk indicating she'd snuck her way to Rosewood High School to get her yearbook photo taken.

Tentatively, as if it could bite her, Alex extended her arm.

"Was this…?"

Jason nodded as if he could anticipate her question.

"This is when we first met." Silence. "She was beautiful, wasn't she?"

A smirk crawled over Alex's mouth. "And delightfully twisted. Posing as a student to get to know you?"

Even Jason chuckled. "You could say that again."

"She was your sister, Alex."

Alex opened her mouth. No words.

"But so is Spencer."

Taking that moment to his advantage, Jason pushed forward the scrawled notebook paper. In childlike, pencilled handwriting was a note dated to October 2nd, 2002.

Alex looked at her brother, then at the paper, then back at her brother.

"Go on. Read."

Alex looked at him incredulously.

"Alex, I'm serious."

She picked up the note. She drew her breath in.

"If I had a twin…"

"If I had a twin, we would fight over who got more berries on their oatmeal for breakfast and mom would roll her eyes and tell us she couldn't arbitrate. If I had a twin, we would sit next to each other all day in school. Sometimes we might change places so our teachers and our friends wouldn't recognize us and we'd laugh. If I had a twin, we would do each other's homework, read each other's books, braid each other's hair. If I had a twin, we would slide our hockey sticks across the dewy grass until sunset, telling each other we would win tomorrow's game. If I had a twin, we would play six-handed pieces and different staffs. If I had a twin, Melissa, my sister and I would cuddle in the couch and talk about boys, Harry Potter, quantum physics, the Constitution, medieval architecture, triads and arpeggios, and medical breakthroughs. If I had a twin, I'd finally have someone to confide my fears, my hopes, my dreams, and my deepest, darkest secrets. If I had a twin, mom would tuck two little girls into bed each night before kissing us good night. If I had a twin, I think I would love it."

By the final sentence, a single teardrop rolled down Alex's slim cheek. She looked up at her brother, whose arms clutched her wrist.

"Did Spencer write this?"

Jason nodded. "When she was in third grade."

Alex inhaled. There was no point in concealing how she felt now.

"Did… did she send you to give this to me?"

Alex's chin was trembling.

Jason turned to the side. "She doesn't even know I have it."

Alex gulped.

"I really do want to help you, Alex. Keep both of those to yourself."

Jason looked at his watch. "Shit," he muttered. "I have to meet that agent."

"Wait."

Jason looked at his sister.

"Before I left the last time you came, you said there was someone after me. What… what are you talking about?" Alex rubbed the tears off her cheek.

Jason gulped nervously, and looked around himself as if he were being watched.

"I don't know who it is, Alex. I know that you made a lot of enemies while you were AD, and that there's people who never want to see you released."

"S… specifically?"

Jason leaned forward, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I have received lots of security alerts recently about the funds in the Carissimi Group."

Alex looked perplexed.

"Your bail money. Someone's made attempts to empty the account and withdraw the funds."

Alex opened her mouth. Another teardrop rolled out.

Jason grabbed his sister by the wrist. "But as long as I'm alive, not a soul is going to touch that money. You _will_ get out of here, Alex. I promise you."

With that, Jason rose from his seat, leaving Alex seated by herself on the table, tears streaming down her cheeks, arms extended, clutching her picture and her note.

 **-VI-**

Byron's hand extended to dab his wife's bloated cheek with the black lace handkerchief she'd brought to the funeral days prior.

As if she couldn't stand the sensation, Ella pushed his arm away.

Byron sat down next to her, sighing.

Ella raised her head.

"How could this have happened like this?" Was it wrath in her voice? "How can someone get arrested for less 100 hours and wind up murdered in their cell? How does someone not see, not hear anything?"

Byron stuck a pacifying hand out onto his wife's wrist. He had no answer.

"How can there be people so cruel in this world, that they don't think about someone having a family, friends, an entire community who won't ever recuperate from the gaping hole they created?"

Byron opened his mouth. "I don't know."

Aggrievedly, Ella shook her head. Her countenance had hardened, and any youthfulness had vanished. "There's something really sick, really wrong about this earth."

Her husband had no response.

It was then that the door banged. The couple exchanged looks. Byron rose. Reluctantly, Ella followed as the door opened.

On the porch were Hanna, Spencer, Emily, and Alison.

"Hello, girls…"

"Mr. Montgomery, we need to see Aria."

Byron looked at his wife, who opened her mouth wordlessly. He motioned for them to enter.

Ella started boarding the stairs. "Girls, I think it's best you stay here. I'll be right back."

The girls exchanged nervous looks as Ella made her way past half-step towards Aria's room. They heard the door open. No words. Then, Ella making her way back down the stairs, alone.

"She's asleep, girls… I'm sorry. The second she wakes up, I'll tell her to contact you."

The girls exchanged glances.

Spencer was incredulous.

"Asleep?"

Ella nodded.

Silence.

Byron broke it, shepherding the women outside. "Thank you for coming, Hanna, Spencer, Emily, Alison. Aria is fortunate to have friends like you."

 **-VII-**

"Okay, is it just me, or is it really weird that she'd be asleep right now?"

Hanna was pacing her way to her vehicle.

"That's not what I did when I thought Toby was dead. But I guess she just…"

Emily wasn't having it.

"Spencer, you aren't Aria. And you never saw Toby's body. Ezra _is_ dead. Hanna, you should really be more empathetic. After all this time, why don't you understand that people grieve differently?"

Hanna and Spencer looked at each other wordlessly. Alison shuffled uncomfortably.

"Come on, Em. Second period's about to start. We can't skip anymore." Silence. "Spencer, are you going to work today?"

Spencer seemed zoned out.

"Spencer?"

"What?" Alison shot her a glance. "Um… maybe later. First I'm going to go home and do some research. I have a lot of questions."

"I'm going to campaign headquarters. I'll see you guys later," replied Hanna.

With that, the four girls parted ways.

 **-VIII-**

An elderly lady making her way down the main avenue of Harrisburg shuddered, gasping as the sheer velocity of a silver Honda Mazda caused the asphalt beneath her to vibrate from the impact. Furiously, she waved her cane at the reckless driver.

Aria's plan had worked. Clearly, the straw dummy underneath her bed lived up to its name, as she hadn't gotten any questions about where she was or messages telling her to get the hell back home. After all, you should let sleeping mourners sleep.

Her hands were trembling as she whizzed down the diamond lane of interstate highway at 87/65 mph, oversized black sunglasses concealing her bloodshot eyes. She took a large swig of the Pilsner next to her, and coughed. It had gone down her windpipe. The back was littered with cans. Her clothes were unwashed, her breath reeked, and her hair unkempt.

Sharply, she turned the GPS on.

"Directions to 2456 Reeder Way, Hewlett, New York."

The GPS followed the instructions. Just then, Aria's phone sounded off for the first time that morning.

"Shit," she muttered, reaching into her trash-filled purse to retrieve it.

A pull of nausea overcame her. Violently, she jerked the turn signal, moving across lanes until she could exit and pull over to the righthand shoulder.

Shaking, she seized her phone.

Oh, you poor widow. If your husband knew the kind of wife you were, he'd be turning over in his grAve.

– A

Attached: 1 IMG . .Statement.

That's what it took. Aria gasped, and on reflex, caught the plastic bag from underneath the seat cushions, and retched into it.

 **-IX-**

Lucas opened the blinds, his discerning, dark brown eyes scanning the boulevard stories beneath his upper story loft.

The coast seemed to be clear.

Lucas turned around, and slowly, cautiously made his way to the dining table, on which was perched a laptop with the website that had been pulled up a day before.

'Worktime', he thought to himself, as he sat down, pulling up manuals of code and setting his worn out fingers down on the keyboard.

He didn't see the gloved fingers curling around the door to the closet only a couple feet away.

 **-X-**

Having returned from Aria's, Spencer bounded into the main house, not expecting to encounter her mother seated on the counter, alone, staring at the granite of the countertop, her eyes downcast.

She stopped upon seeing her.

"Mom…"

"Spencer."

Something wasn't right. Spencer could see it.

"Mom, what is it?"

Veronica looked around herself as if she were being watched.

"You're going to need to take a seat."

Spencer's heart began beating louder than she could take as Veronica reached into her briefcase, retrieving her tablet.

"I got a message this morning that changes everything."

Spencer gulped as Veronica opened her email.

From an unidentified sender:

I know what your daughter did.

Attached was a picture of none other than Spencer herself, bearing a shovel. It was poorly edited, and had her trapped behind bars, a stethoscope wrapped around her neck.

"Mom…"

"Spencer, what does this mean?"

Veronica was losing her composure. She lifted her hand, rubbing her cheek to eliminate her tears.

"It must be about… about Bethany Young…"

"But this is you! I haven't heard from your sister since I left for Bradford."

Spencer gulped. This was severe. But her mother seemed to be convinced.

"Mom, Hanna told me Melissa resigned. Is that true?"

Now it was Veronica's turn to look shocked.

"Resigned? Honey, she left to visit a friend in London. She's taking a leave of absence. Didn't she tell you?"

This was an outrage.

"No, Mom, Melissa wouldn't tell me if my hair was on fire!"

Veronica looked back down.

"Mom, Hanna told me that Melissa's stuff was being moved out. I haven't heard from her at all. It's like she just vanished."

Veronica was flustered. "What do you mean, her 'stuff was being moved out'?"

Spencer didn't have an answer. "Do you… do you think we should call the police?"

That had Veronica laugh, disbelievingly. "The _police_?! Spencer, the last thing we need right now is the the police, especially after Ezra died at their hands!"

Spencer looked down, gulping. She couldn't lose her composure now.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

Veronica was making her way out of the kitchen. "What I'm going to do? I'm on my way to resign from the candidacy. I was an insufferable fool to think this would work."

Spencer's eyes widened, her mouth gaping.

Veronica twisted around once more. "The _second_ you hear from your sister, you tell me. Do you understand me?"

The second her mother pulled out of the driveway, Spencer's phone sounded off. Fur Elise. Spencer was nauseous. Her hands were feathers as she pulled it out of her purse.

Did you think I'd forget about the good doctor?

You talk to the cops about Z and me, EVERYONE knows.

-A

Attached: 1 video

 **-XI-**

Emily's junior varsity session had gone by very smoothly in contrast to how it'd gone for the first weeks.

Although she had been called out by the varsity team for her glumness, she hadn't lost her composure once. It was in its own rite, remarkable.

"Hi there!"

Emily jerked up. A strawberry blonde with large eyeglasses had entered the staff lounge. She was tall, thin, 5'7'', and wore an unmistakable corporate uniform.

"Emily… right?" The blonde was smiling throughout, and stuck her hand out.

Awkwardly, Emily scrabbled herself up into a standing position, her book dropping to the floor. She laughed nervously.

"Yes! Yes, Emily Fields." Emily shook the hand of the blonde, who had a very tenacious grip.

"Megan. Megan Berger. Paige has told me _so_ much about you!"

Megan's dilated green eyes were fascinating. They grew larger with each word she uttered. She was animated in her diction.

Emily chuckled, her hand nervously grazing through her hair. "The same would go for you."

"Hey, do you think it's fine if I leave the enchiladas on the countertop? The fridge is chock full, and Paige has a roaring tummy."

At this, Emily couldn't contain herself. She burst out laughing. "Sorry, the way you said it…"

Megan simpered. "It's a gift."

"The enchiladas are good wherever."

"Perfect!" Megan set the aluminum-foil wrapped container on the countertop.

"So… you and Paige went to school together?"

Emily looked around herself before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, we were varsity together."

Megan laughed wildly, throwing her head back. "Coming from someone who doesn't know the trudgen from the backstroke, that's impressive."

"Really, the difference is just—"

"Meg?"

Both women wheeled around. Paige was in the doorway.

"Well, if it isn't the lucky girl?"

Paige blushed.

"So I see you two have finally met," she started.

"Indeed," continued Megan, turning towards Emily, "she started getting pretty legendary."

The three women chuckled.

"Oh, by the way, Paige… we were out of red sauce, so I just used the green one from the pantry."

"Those had better be chicken, not beef."

Megan licked her lips playfully, pecking a kiss onto her wife's cheek. "You bet."

Before turning to leave, she turned towards Emily.

"You know, us three and your wife, Emily, we should do a double date. I have an open weekend. That way you can finish explaining the difference between the trudgen and the backstroke. You'll probably give a much better explanation than this oaf here."

Megan playfully punched her wife on the shoulder, who at the idea of a double date, looked extremely uncomfortable.

Without thinking, Emily accepted the invitation. "Ali and I would love to do a double date."

"Yes! Finally an excuse to not do weeds." Meg turned towards the door. "Have a good day, guys! Nice to meet you, again, Emily. See you at home, champ."

"You too."

With Megan gone, Emily turned her gaze at Paige, whose eyes were directed at the floor, a morose, forlorn gaze in them. Immediately, Emily felt nervous.

"I'm sorry, Paige, I shouldn't have accepted—"

Paige jerked up.

"What are you talking about? It'll be fun, Em. Let's do Sunday at the Grille?"

Emily gulped.

"Sure!"

A phone sounded off. The ringtone was not Emily's.

"Damnit! That's my class about to start. I'll see you tomorrow, Em."

"Bye, Paige."

Paige rounded the corner, and Emily reclined on the countertop, pondering whether she had gotten herself into a calamity she could've prevented.

 **-XII-**

Alison thumbed the frayed pages of Shakespeare's The Comedy of Errors, hoping that somehow, by caressing the graying ink on the yellowing paper, that it'd add life to the faded text. It had been a busy day, and she felt the exhaustion weighing down on her. She hadn't heard from any of her friends, or her wife since the beginning of the school day.

"You always have been one to steer clear of tragedy, haven't you?"

Alison gasped, almost dropping the book onto the classroom floor. In the doorway, her figure casting a looming shadow onto the ground stood a smirking Jenna Marshall, her hands folded over her cane.

In an instant, Alison snapped to it. There was nothing Jenna could do.

"Being fascinated by the nature of evil is quite a restriction when it comes to literature, Jenna. If I were you, I'd leave it to Shakespeare."

Jenna's smirk didn't fade. She tapped her way into Alison's room, and as if it were her very own homeroom, reclined on the bookshelf.

"What do you want, Jenna?"

Jenna laughed. A dark, acidic laugh that would put the Nordic winds to shame, and sent a shiver up Alison's spine.

" _That_ is an interesting question."

No response. Jenna pushed herself off of the shelf, and started tapping her way to the front of the room. She felt her way for a pulpit, and lowered herself, sitting down. She folded her cane, putting it on top of the desk, and leaned back in her chair. As if that wasn't enough, she pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds, and began idly munching.

Alison gulped. What the hell?

"I'm really in a rush, Jenna, so if there's nothing I can help you with, then—"

"It seems like Emily's assimilating back into the rhythm of things around here, isn't she?"

Alison lowered her gaze, not that it made a difference with the blind brunette in front of her.

"She's doing fine, thanks for your concern." Alison replied curtly, indicating that catching up with the girl she'd blinded was the last thing she wanted to do.

"But the same can't be said for poor Aria, can it?"

Alison gulped again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A smug look came over Jenna's luscious lips.

"I guess some types of forbidden love never stop being dangerous, do they? It's a shame their legacy didn't last."

This was too much.

"Are you threatening us?"

Another laugh. Jenna made as if she hadn't heard the question. "You would know all about forbidden love, though, wouldn't you, Alison? Nothing like a fight to the death in the stalls of the bathroom, all for Emily's fair hand. It really is romantic, if you think about it. You two make a lovely couple."

Jenna had exposed a weak spot. Alison perceived a threat, and responded accordingly, a smirk imminent.

"Who are you to talk about forbidden love, Jenna? I'm sure _Spencer's_ boyfriend would just love to know the answer to that."

Jenna couldn't avoid swallowing. Alison struck a chord. But she couldn't allow herself to be fazed. Yet again, she dodged Alison's barbed commentary.

"And I'm sure if Principal Hackett were to discover all the commotion, all the bloodshed between you and Paige, all for that fair maiden, that he would have a very similar mindset. You see, Alison," Jenna rose from the desk she had been sitting on. "I know you have your eyes on that promotion. It's hard getting higher up on the hierarchy around here. And everyone just _loves_ you."

Alison continued smirking. "It might just be because I'm more charming."

Jenna had made her way directly in front of Alison. "Well, come to think of it, I have my eyes on that promotion as well. And if Hackett found out about all the ruckus you've been causing, he might just with—"

She had said enough. In a quick gesture, Alison locked her arm around the grip of Jenna's cane. Jenna flinched, startled.

"You think you know how I tick?" Alison snarled as she had done days before. "Well, guess what, sweetie. So do I. And if you think you can scare me away from the prize, or pull anything to intimidate me, my friends, or my family, you've got another think coming. You're just a vile old hag."

Alison leaned forward, her breath causing Jenna's nose to twitch.

"No one's ever loved you. Chances are no one ever will. But I'm guessing you learnt that lesson with darling Toby."

Alison softened her grasp on Jenna's cane handle.

"I'm dealing with _real_ problems right now, Jenna. _Leave_ me alone."

Jenna jerked her cane out from under Alison's grasp. Her jaw trembled. Alison had incensed her. She moved forward, inches away from stepping on Alison's heels.

"It's just a pity that bitch didn't succeed in smashing your skull in that night. I guess it's only a matter of time… before someone will," she hissed, her words tinted with years of ice cold, pent-up wrath.

Before Alison could retort, Jenna spun around in a swift motion, tapping her way into the hall, just as students poured out of the doors for the final bell.

 **-XIII-**

A hamfisted toddler could do volumes of damage to hair, and thus, to the ego of anyone who valued theirs as much as Hanna. But this time around, she wasn't complaining as Lindy twirled a strand of her mother's light blonde hair around her finger, giggling.

She sat vacantly on her armchair, daughter in lap, staring at the balcony.

What could she do?

How could this have happened?

Caleb set his hand on his wife's shoulder. No reaction.

"We'll go back to Spencer's later today, Hanna. And then we'll all go straight to Aria's. We won't stop until we can look her in the eyes."

He took his wife's hand in one, squeezing it tightly, and used the other to stroke his daughter's thin, light brown curls. She cooed.

"Have you heard from Lucas?"

This question took Caleb aback.

"No… not since a couple weeks ago. Why are you thinking about Lucas right now?" He gulped.

"Um… he said something about… about Mona. I just… I want to know what he meant."

Caleb snorted. "Just like Mona, huh? Still occupying your brain, isn't she?"

Hanna turned around, her saddened eyes pleading for him to stop.

"Caleb. Don't do this right now. Please."

Caleb lowered his gaze.

"I'm sorry." He lightened his grip on Hanna's hand. "I'm just afraid. I haven't had time to process anything that happened with Ezra. It's just happened so fast."

It was Hanna's turn to look down.

"I know."

He turned around, taking a cordless phone from the glass table behind him.

"But if it protects you, and everyone we care about, I'll do anything."

Caleb extended his wife the phone.

Hanna smiled halfheartedly, and punched a number in.

Thirty seconds later, she hung up, and turned around, to follow up with her husband, who was looking at her expectantly.

"No response."

 **-XIV-**

The gravel leading to the door of Spencer's barn crunched underneath Toby's shoes as he made his way to see his girlfriend for the second time that day. She'd called out ill and he knew that leaving her to her own devices wasn't an option.

It was then that a male voice from the other side of the property caused him to stop in his tracks.

"I know. I know it's scary, I'm scared too. But nothing's going to happen to you anytime soon, I promise. Is your time up? Okay. Okay, you're on remand, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

Jason DiLaurentis turned around. He seemed to be taken aback to see Toby stock still, staring at him.

Without another thought, Toby made his way to Jason, who at this point had gotten an idea of what was up and turned around, walking towards his house.

"Jason. Hey, wait."

Jason sighed, turning around.

"Yeah?"

He knew he needed to find out who'd been on the other end, but just didn't know how to broach the subject.

"Who was that?" He resorted to awkwardly asking.

Jason scoffed. "Is my phone log considered public knowledge now too? I don't think so."

"I wasn't ask—"

"Sure you weren't. Tell Spencer it's nice to see her too. If she has something she wants to discuss with me, she'd better do it herself instead of sending you over here. I'm goin' to work."

Without so much as another word towards the man who'd approached him, Jason turned on his heels, and walked swiftly back to his home, leaving Toby by himself in the clearing.

 **-XV-**

Ella was in the same position she had been for the last hour. Staring at the wooden footrest of the Montgomery living room. Transfixed on the couch. Sliding a black laced handkerchief in between her once-trembling, now-still hands.

Byron entered the living room, followed by a taller woman.

"Thank you for coming here, Doctor."

Ella didn't glance up.

"Please, after all this time, call me Ann."

Byron and Dr. Sullivan sat down next to each other, across from Byron's wife.

"We don't know how difficult it's going to be to get this through, but I'd imagine that…"

"It may not even be possible yet. But we can try. Where is she now?"

"Sleeping."

Ella had spoken for the first time in hours. Silence broken by Byron.

"She's been in there for too long, honey. We have to get her down," he said, looking to the therapist next to him for reinforcement. She nodded in agreement.

"With the grieving, sometimes all that's left is to crack the sphere they've created for themselves. It can be impossible for them to accept the help that's been extended."

Ella stared at her lap. In a powerful motion, she nodded, sniffling, wiping herself with the handkerchief.

"Let's get her downstairs."

The three adults rose, and climbed the stairs. Byron's hand reached the doorknob to Aria's room, which opened surprisingly quickly.

Byron and Ella gasped. Where they thought they'd encounter their daughter, head buried into her pillow, a sea of tissues inundating the carpet, was a straw puppet with just the right size of head to lure any visitors into oblivion.

Ella placed her hand on her chest, and fell back against the wall, her face white in fear. Dr. Sullivan's eyes widened. Before Byron could yell any kind of instructions, she had whipped out her phone.

"Rosewood PD? Aria Montgomery is missing."

 **-XVI-**

The shrill, unmistakable ringing of a phone filled the Gottesman loft. The caller had rang for him four times in a row.

It was only then that Lucas's finger stirred, followed by his hand, his wrist, his arm, his shoulder, and his head.

He groaned.

Where was he? What the hell had happened?

He raised his head, and instantly winced. It was as if his spine had rotated 45º to the left. He shuddered, and with as much strength as he could muster, raised his head.

A wave of horror washed through him.

On the display of the computer in front of him was a note, written in large print, and bright red ink.

STOP SLEUTHING.

LEAVE TOWN OR HANNA PAYS.

Smeared on the oak desk was a red fluid. As if on instinct, Lucas reached around to the back of his neck, and grimaced, his skin crawling, as he felt his finger had been dipped into a shallow pool of cold, exposed, crimson red blood. He'd been out for hours.

All throughout, his cell phone was ringing.

He gasped as if he only just heard it, and pulled it out of his pocket, in which it was deeply buried.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm out. You'll have to figure it out on your own."

Without so much as another word, he took his phone and the laptop and threw them to the floor, crushing them, the possibility of any remaining functionality of the hard drive being obliterated.

He grabbed a satchel off the coat rack, locked the door, and cast a final look at his loft before pulling up his hoodie and entering the complex elevator.

He knew what he was up against.

"I'm sorry, Hanna."

 **-XVII-**

Calling out ill had become a vicious, unbreakable pattern.

Spencer lay on her side of the bed facing the wall, her eyes fighting themselves to not collapse. Toby reached out from the opposite side, hand squeezing his girlfriend's.

"Who could that have been, Spence?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know if it could've been Alison…"

"Toby—"

"What if it was Melissa? You said yourself that your mom said she was—"

Spencer rolled around, propping herself up on an elbow.

"I can't have this conversation right now, Toby. Just don't."

Toby looked as if he'd been slapped.

"What's wrong, Spencer? This is more than Ezra. You look afraid. Did… did A send you anything?"

Spencer opened her mouth as if to answer. But it was then that the door to the barn opened, and Emily, Alison, Hanna, and Caleb barged in.

"Thank God you guys are here."

Hanna looked around herself as if she were being watched.

"Spencer, why did you send that SOS?"

It was Spencer's turn to look around herself. She inhaled, examining each of the five faces in front of her. Toby looked positively baffled. He hadn't realized an SOS had been sent.

"This A knows. This A knows about Rollins."

Not so much as another breath passed before Spencer's phone sounded off. Everyone gasped as Spencer flinched, falling back into Toby's arms. He took it from his girlfriend, and answered it.

"Hello?"

Everyone looked at Toby expectantly, as he grew pale.

"We'll be right there."

"Toby, what the hell was that?"

Toby hung the phone up. He opened his mouth, and like a fish without water, proceeded to open and close his mouth several times before being able to formulate words.

"It's Mike. They can't find Aria."

 **-XVIII-**

Clad in smudged makeup, a blue joggers hoodie, tight-fitting black pants, and oversized sunglasses, Aria stepped out of her Honda, beholding the sprawling New York estate ahead of her.

She inhaled sharply, knowing the trek to the front gate would be a long one.

For ten minutes, she trudged solemnly. For the last five, she picked up her pace, her gait becoming decisive and emotional. By the end, she was sprinting. She hammered on the metal bars.

"Hello?"

A stout, older woman with a housekeeper's dress, hair tied in a strict bun, emerged from the dimly lit mansion, running towards Aria, huffing.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" She demanded.

Before Aria could reply incoherently, a tall, young man emerged from behind the woman.

"It's okay, Inga. She's family."

The woman turned around, looking hawkishly at both the man behind her and the most unexpected visitor before scurrying off into the house.

Upon seeing who had come to approach her, Aria burst out into tears, which she had managed to avoid doing for the duration of the voyage there.

Without a second thought, the man opened the gate, and enveloped Aria in an embrace.

"I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye, Wes. Not once."

Wes fought the tears in his eyes in turn. He stepped away from the woman, before setting a protective hand on her shoulder.

"Ezra loved you, Aria."

Aria was sobbing.

"Do your parents know you're here?"

Between weeps, Aria shook her head to indicate that no one knew she'd come so far. Wesley inhaled the stench of a lack of shower and alcohol that permeated the woman's hoodie.

"You'd best come inside. I'll get Inga to draw a tub and chocolate. I'm calling your parents first thing."

Aria nodded, not bothering to resist, as Wes shepherded her inside.

"We're in this together. Thick and thin."

 **-XIX-**

Mona wrung her hands nervously. Her ring fingernail was bitten and needed a manicure. But in these circumstances, that and worse were to be expected.

The visitation table was small, even for her petite stature, as her kneecap bumped the gum-laden bottom of it, causing her to grimace in disgust.

This would not be an easy task.

Mona gulped nervously as the taller, cuffed brunette who she'd called upon broke into a grin, pushing the guard forward, and seating herself in front of Mona.

"Finally! I was starting to worry after all these days. I do have something big though. You know, Jason's—"

"Alex."

"What?"

Mona looked around herself. She had not slept in days, and looked worse off than Alex despite her having 24/7 access to a shower and an at-home spa.

There was no other way.

She had to say it outright.

"I cannot help you with that anymore."

As quickly as the grin had appeared on Alex's face, it vanished.

"What are you talking about?"

Mona leaned forward. Alex could see the deep bags under her honey brown eyes.

"It's gone. All of it."

Alex paled. Then, she scoffed. A mirthless chuckle. A wild laugh. Mona looked to the side uncomfortably.

"No, no, no. No, it can't be. No, Jason told me it was still there this morning, he—"

"Jason told you the account was filled?"

It was as if Alex hadn't heard the question.

"No, no, no, no, no. You're lying. You really are. You're… you're batshit."

"Alex, I—"

"No, you SAID you'd help me. We SAID we'd work together."

Alex banged her fist on the table. The visitation room fell silent. A guard tentatively walked forward. Mona shuddered.

"Alex, I'll do anything, I'll talk to the judge, I'll find ways to—"

"You know what?"

Alex shook her head, a bitter, close-mouthed grin causing her to compress her chin.

"You know what?" She repeated. "For a moment there, I thought Charlotte was wrong. I thought she didn't know the real you. I thought there was more to you than that. But you really are just a lying, selfish bitch. Always looking out for number one."

Mona opened her mouth, stunned.

Silence.

"Alex…"

"GET OUT."

At this point, a guard had approached Alex's side, lifting her. Alex was seething, and a slim teardrop rolled down her cheek.

"I guess Jason is my only hope," she spat out as she was pulled out of her chair and directed to the corridor, leaving Mona in the visitation room, hands folded over her stomach as if she'd been kicked, teardrops rolling down her cheek as well.

What would she do now…?

 **-XX-**

The outline of a woman whose face was pressed against the glass was not visible from inside the second visitation room of the Riverside Jail.

Inside the visitation room, Mary Drake sat at a table for two, in front of a man who bore a law firm identification and a visitor tag.

"How did this happen like this?" She asked, her face in her hands, as she shook her head. "How could something like this get out?"

"I don't know, Mary. But if it makes you feel better, it's cost me a lot. Like it'll cost you."

Mary slammed her hands down on the table, eyes blazing at the middle-aged man in front of her, more emotional than she had let herself be in a long, long time. "Don't you understand? This means we'll never get out. EITHER OF US!"

From outside the visitation room, a woman, clad in a black hood, turned around from the glass pane.

She whipped out a cheap burner phone, punched a number in, and waited.

"Your services are no longer needed."

With a nefarious grin, she stepped down to the sidewalk curb, and made her way into the night, the unmistakable metallic glint of a pocket knife beaming off of an adjacent vehicle.

 **-XXI-**

As a night owl could be heard, a hand pulled the window of the RV closed.

"Here's the proof we've been waiting for. I managed to find it buried in a not-so-safe spot." A woman handed a video cassette to a man in front of her.

The man took the cassette, loading it into the DVD player, and waited.

"I reckon that bitch had something to do with _his_ death, too," she continued.

The man nodded pensively.

In a British accent, he replied, "It wouldn't surprise me. Not in the least."

The woman sat down across from him, and folded her hands, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, I hope this tells us what we need to know… Wren."

 **-FINIS-**

A hooded figure approached a shabby, tumbledown house. Carefully making sure not to betray an overt signal of its presence, it strode towards the peeling front porch.

A child of no more than five could be heard screaming from the inside, and the voice of a woman hushing the child could be heard as well.

In a swift motion, the figure bent down, leaving something on the porch. In a pamphlet titled "In Memory of Ezra Fitz", stuck out a check for an amount that would've made just any passerby gasp in disbelief.

The figure rang the doorbell, turned on its heel, and made its way into the bustling Philadelphia night.


End file.
